


Black Tie Optional

by snuckybarnes



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Weddings, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-03-17 23:27:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18974554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snuckybarnes/pseuds/snuckybarnes
Summary: "A plus one? Truly?"Geralt was going to say no. He should have said no, since he didn't have a plus one at all and wasn't planning on finding one either. But Istredd was just being so frustrating all the time and what instead came from his lips was—"Yes."---In which Geralt lies about having a date for Yennefer's wedding and Regis offers to play the part. It goes about as well as you would expect.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Fake/Pretend Relationship tag for these two was way too small, so I decided to take it upon myself to expand it a little.
> 
> Enormous shoutout to [Merulanoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merulanoir/pseuds/merulanoir) for a) being so kind as to beta this fic for me b) for helping me with ideas for wedding activities and a lot of thoughts on formal wear and c) for being generally enthusiastic and encouraging!
> 
> I hope you'll like this!

Geralt often felt out of place, but this was worse than usual.

The room was very clean, and he didn't dare so much as touch the cream coloured walls, let alone lean back against one as he would have liked. He could probably have sat down in one of the armchairs in the corner, but he couldn't help feeling as if they were intended as decoration rather than furniture. He seemed alone in his discomfort however; the three women seemed right at home.

And then there were the dresses. Plenty of them, hung along the walls or displayed on mannequins by the windows, all in sophisticated colors and made from fabrics that looked as if they would fall apart from the lightest touch. It all seemed very extravagant.

But no matter how out of place he felt, he couldn't help but smile as Ciri twirled in the center of the room, laughing as the lavender fabric flowed around her.

"This is the one, mamma, don't you think?" she said, coming to a halt and facing Yennefer, who was looking deep in thought.

"You said that about the last two as well," she pointed out.

"I think she's right this time, Yenna," said Triss, who was wearing a dress identical to Ciri's. "Besides, Geralt's here. We're gonna have to wrap things up."

Ciri followed her gaze and smiled even wider when she saw Geralt. She rushed up to give him a hug, not seeming to care that she was still wearing the no doubt expensive dress. "Hi," she said once she pulled away again. "I didn't think you'd be here so early."

"You said five, didn't you? Technically I'm late." He nodded towards the clock on the wall, which showed ten minutes past.

"I really thought we'd be done by now," Ciri explained, smiling apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. These things take time, from what I've heard."

"It has to be perfect."

"I know. Your mom wouldn't have anything less." He glanced up at the mother in question, and Yennefer met him with a slight smile. It was nice, Geralt thought, that they were still friends even if they were no longer together. He was happy that she had found love again, love she could commit to.

He had to admit, however, that he was less happy about her choice of fiancé. Istredd and Geralt had never seen eye to eye, and not only because of Yennefer. But after understanding that Yen loved him enough to want to marry him, Geralt had promised himself he would be civil towards the man. He didn't have to like him, though.

Geralt pulled himself back to the moment as Ciri smiled at him and rushed back to Triss and her mother. "So what do you think?" she asked, giving the dress another twirl. "Have you decided?"

Yennefer looked at Triss and Ciri, then smiled and nodded. "I believe I have. Now go get changed, Ciri, before Geralt decides to flee without you."

"He would never," Ciri protested, but evidently didn't dare to risk it and disappeared back into the changing room. Triss soon did the same.

Geralt walked to where Yen was standing, deciding that he would feel even more awkward if he stayed where he was. "Things going alright?" he asked to fill the silence.

"I'd say so," Yen replied. "There's much to do still, but we've hit no major obstacles thus far."

"That's good."

She looked thoughtful for a moment before speaking again. "You know, you still haven't replied to the invitation."

"I have to do that?" Geralt asked. "Thought it was just assumed that I'd be there."

"True, but it's so much easier to have a formal reply, for the sake of . . . well, everything, really. Besides, we need to know whether or not you'll be bringing a plus one."

Geralt opened his mouth to reply when the bells by the door chimed, announcing Istredd as he entered. He approached them and greeted Yennefer with a smile and a kiss. Geralt took a step back, not wanting to intrude.

"How has your day been? Did you manage to make a decision about the dresses?" Istredd asked.

Yennefer nodded. "In the end, yes. And I was just reminding Geralt about officially replying to his invitation." She turned to look at Geralt again, an eyebrow raised.

"I'll get right on it," he promised.

"So you are coming, then?" Istredd asked. Geralt wanted to roll his eyes at how sceptical he sounded.

"I am."

"You're not worried you will be called on to work? There's always an excess of necrophages in July, after all."

Did he have to go on like this every chance he got? Geralt clenched his jaw and smiled as politely as he could. "I'm not the only witcher. I can take a few days off."

"Of course you can," Yennefer agreed, trying to keep the discussion civil. "Just remember that formal reply. Plus ones, and all that."

Istredd raised his eyebrows. "A plus one? Truly?"

Geralt was going to say no. He should have said no, since he didn't have a plus one at all and wasn't planning on finding one either. But Istredd was just being so _frustrating_ all the time and what instead came from his lips was—

"Yes."

Yennefer smiled. "Really?"

No. And Geralt should have taken it back while he had the chance. It would have been awkward, sure, but it would have been the end of it. But of course he could never do things the easy way.

"Yeah. I'm, uh, seeing someone," he lied.

"I'm so happy for you," Yennefer told him. "Who is it? Anyone I know?"

"You'll . . . see at the wedding." Geralt managed to smile despite the voice in his head yelling at him that he was getting himself into something really, really stupid. But the surprise written all over Istredd's face was worth whatever trouble he had just landed himself in.

"And when were you going to tell me?" Ciri demanded, returning from her dressing room and wearing her own clothes again. She kissed Yennefer on the cheek before she grabbed Geralt by the arm and started walking him towards the door. Geralt had no choice but to follow her, managing a wave goodbye to Yennefer on the way out.

"You know I'm okay with you dating, right?" Ciri continued as they stepped out into the street. She gave his arm a little squeeze. "I want you to be happy, and mamma doesn't have a monopoly on moving on."

"I know."

"So why haven't you said anything? The car is this way, right?"

"Yeah. And we're taking it slow. Don't wanna make it public and official just yet." Why was he still doing this? Ciri would have understood that he was just trying to get back at Istredd, and here he was keeping up the lie with her as well. What was wrong with him?

Ciri nodded. "I get it. But you're going to the wedding together?"

"Seems so," Geralt lied.

He was in such deep shit.

 

**

 

"I am in such deep shit."

It was Monday morning, and Geralt put his coffee mug down on the table in favour of burying his face in his hands.

"Why, what happened?" Dandelion asked, clutching his own expensive latte.

"Told Yen I'm having a plus one for her wedding."

"Is that not a good thing?" Cahir wondered, confused.

"Sure," Geralt agreed, looking up from his hands only to stare down into the darkness of his coffee instead. "If it was true. But it's not."

"Then why did you do it, if I may ask?" Regis' voice held no judgement, as usual.

Geralt shrugged. "Don't know. Guess Istredd, the guy she's marrying, was just getting on my nerves. He's so damn smug all the time and when he asked if I was bringing someone . . . It just slipped out."

"So?" said Angoulême from where she was sitting on the counter. Geralt had stopped wondering about her disregard for regular furniture long ago. "Just take someone with you."

"That's not a bad idea," Dandelion agreed. "I'll go with you if you want."

"Aren't you already invited?" Geralt asked, frowning.

Dandelion nodded. "That I am. Never mind then."

"Just tell them the truth. Yennefer will understand," Milva advised before standing from her seat. "Anyway, we should get to work. Come on."

 

"Geralt," Regis said as they were all leaving the break room, "shall we take a look at the stock?"

Geralt nodded and walked with Regis to the small laboratory down the hall. It was where he brewed his witcher potions and oils, as well as where he stored the herbs and other ingredients he needed for the process.

"Think I'm running low on beggartrick," Geralt told him, opening a cabinet to check.

Regis took note of it, as well as the other ingredients Geralt listed, but there seemed to be something else on his mind.

"May I ask you something?" he finally said. "It's somewhat personal."

Geralt leaned back against the counter. "Sure."

"What you said earlier about lying to your ex and her fiancé; it didn't happen out of jealousy, did it?"

"Jealousy? No, Gods no." Geralt shook his head. "I'm happy she's moving on. Me and Istredd don't really get along, is all. We never have."

"And therefore admitting the truth is out of the question?" Regis surmised, putting his notebook back into his bag.

Geralt sighed. "Not really, I mean I guess I'm gonna have to. Not like I have a lot of other options."

"I could go with you, if you'd like," Regis offered, fiddling with the cuff of his jacket.

What? Why would he be offering that? Geralt shook his head. "You don't have to do that, Regis. It's an entire weekend of just hanging around Yen and Istredd's friends, almost exclusively sorcerers. Besides, you'd have to pretend to be into me."

Regis chuckled and looked away for a moment. "That doesn't seem like too much of a challenge. And a free vacation sounds rather appealing."

Geralt blinked. "You're actually serious."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Regis asked, smiling. "I haven't been to a wedding in ages."

"You sure?"

Regis took a step forward to put his hand on Geralt's arm. "I'm sure, Geralt. If you don't want me to, you can say no, but you don't have to try talking me out of it."

"Just want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into," Geralt sighed.

Regis gave Geralt's arm a pat before he let his hand drop. "Don't you worry about that."

Geralt fell silent for a moment as he thought it over. Regis was offering him an easy way out of his mess and there was little reason to decline. A while after the wedding he could always say that they had just ended things, but were still friends. It wouldn't be the first time, after all. He felt bad about lying though, mostly when it came to Ciri, but he suspected he would feel even worse about having to admit the lie to Istredd. Besides, Regis was a good friend and it wasn't as if Geralt would have to pretend in order to seem attracted to him. It was the best solution he would get.

"Alright then," he said, "Would you like to be my plus one for this wedding, Regis?"

Regis grinned, showing off a hint of sharp teeth. "It would be my pleasure."

Geralt couldn't help but grin in return, just letting himself be relieved and doing his best to ignore the hint of nervousness that tried to make itself known.

 

"What are you smiling about?" Milva asked not much later, when Regis had left for his other duties and Geralt had returned to the main room of their office.

Geralt shrugged. "Regis said he'll go with me to the wedding, so problem solved. Where am I heading today, there still drowners by the eastern bridge?"

Milva crossed her arms and spun her chair to face Geralt. She looked unimpressed. "Did he now?"

"He did. What about it?"

"Nothin'," Milva said, shaking her head. "Just hoping you both know what you're doing, is all."

"You don't think it's a good idea," Geralt said, not bothering to make it a question.

"I don't think it's a good idea or a bad one. I'm just reminding you that you'll be spending a few days together pretending to be in love, that's all."

"It's not gonna be a problem," Geralt assured, though Milva's words manage to plant a seed of doubt. What if acting like a couple with Regis was going to make things awkward between them?

No. He wasn't going to let that happen. Regis was being kind enough to help him out with this, and that was all it was going to be.

Milva shrugged. "If you say so."

 

***

 

It was a long time before Geralt had to think about the wedding again. He gave Yennefer and Istredd his formal reply to the invitation and for a while, that was that.

Ciri did nothing to hide her curiosity regarding who he was supposedly seeing, but she was respectful enough not to press the subject. Even though the relationship wasn't real, Geralt couldn't help but wonder what his daughter would think about him and Regis. He hoped she'd like him.

She had already met Regis of course, when she had visited Geralt at work, but it would be in a different context during the wedding. Hell, Geralt didn't even know if Ciri knew that he was just as attracted to men as he was to women. It wasn't something he had been hiding from her per se; they just didn't talk about it. After breaking things off with Yen Geralt had tried to keep dating to the weeks when Ciri wasn't living with him, to focus on spending time with her when he could. Not that there had been much dating to begin with.

Geralt had to admit that he missed it. Not the dating, but having a partner to come home to and share things with. Someone to hold at night. His and Yen's relationship had become dysfunctional long ago, only held together by their love for Ciri in the end, but things had been good once. It would have been nice to have something like that again. One day, maybe.

More than once Geralt caught himself entertaining the thought of what his and Regis' relationship would be like. He knew that it just extended to being a charade for the wedding, but he couldn't help wondering now that the idea had been planted in his head. He imagined Regis would be . . . sweet. Careful, but passionate. Each time he forced himself to think about something else though, because it wouldn't do either of them any good if he started treating their agreement as anything more than it was. They were good friends, and that was it.

 

A little over a week before the wedding, Regis decided to start making things difficult.

Geralt was returning from a job late one evening—dispatching a stubborn nightwraith near Lakeside—and found that the office was not empty. The lights weren't on, but Regis didn't always bother with them. Fortunately Geralt could see well enough without them too.

"Working late?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe of the laboratory.

Regis looked up from the countertop, a crooked smile on his lips. The moonlight coming in from the window made him look almost eerie. "Some plants are nocturnal, as am I," he replied. "Did the job go well?"

"A few scratches, nothing I can't handle. Nightwraith shouldn't bother anyone else."

"Glad to hear it," Regis said. He was silent for a few moments then, absentmindedly rolling the stem of a flower between his fingertips, before he continued. "Since there are no prying ears about . . . I've been thinking about something. If we're to act as a couple next weekend, we want to do so convincingly, do we not? And in order to do so it would be best if we knew what we're comfortable with, so as to not startle one another."

"Guess that makes sense," Geralt agreed.

"In that case," Regis begun, crossing the small room to stand right in front of Geralt, bringing with him the scent of thyme and aniseed. His voice was a bit quieter when he spoke again. "Are you alright with me being this close?"

Regis was watching him intently with those black eyes of his, and for a moment Geralt forgot that he was supposed to answer.

"I am," he managed. "Are you?"

Regis let out a soft chuckle. "I am, yes." He looked down then, and Geralt followed the line of his gaze down to his hand. Regis reached out to take it in his and Geralt found himself grateful to still be wearing his gloves. "How about me holding your hand, is that alright as well?" he wondered, lacing their fingers together.

Geralt blinked, pulling his gaze back up from their joined hands to find that Regis was looking at his face again. "Yeah," he breathed, giving Regis' hand a light squeeze. Somewhere at the back of his head, a voice told him that he had gotten himself into something very dangerous. If his breath caught in his throat from just this, how would he get through an entire weekend?

"And do you think," Regis said as he brought his free hand to Geralt's face then, his fingers brushing gently against Geralt's cheek, "that they will expect us to kiss?"

"I'm not big on the whole PDA thing," Geralt admitted, trying not to focus on the way Regis' sharp fingernails scraped ever so slightly against his skin. "But, uh, maybe?"

Something flashed in Regis' eyes and the corner of his lips twitched. Geralt didn't dare move as Regis leaned in closer, closer— And then to the side, letting his lips brush against Geralt's cheek. "Was that okay?" he asked as he pulled back.

_More than okay_ , Geralt wanted to say. _Please do it again_. But he couldn't. Instead he forced a smile, trying to seem confident. "Sure. You're really selling it, by the way. No one will suspect a thing."

Regis drew both of his hands back and took a step out of Geralt's personal space. He was smiling, but there was a tightness to it that hadn't been there before. "That's good," he replied. "We wouldn't want to be unconvincing."

"Right," Geralt agreed, then cleared his throat in an undoubtedly pointless effort to seem less flustered. "So . . . With that out of the way, I'm gonna . . ." he gestured vaguely in the direction of the main part of the office.

Regis nodded. "Of course. One more thing: You have a suit, I take it?"

Geralt sighed. "Yeah. Guess I have to wear it, huh?"

Regis smiled, and some of the tightness faded from his expression. "Naturally. It's a wedding, after all. And I was thinking that—in order to sell it, as you put it—it might be a good idea to match? Pocket squares, if nothing else?"

"I know nothing about formal wear though," Geralt pointed out, frowning.

"Then it's fortunate that I do," Regis retorted. "I know of a shop in the Trade Quarter; we could go there together if you'd like?"

"Okay," Geralt said. It was probably for the best that someone told him how to dress anyway. If he could have his way he would just show up in a leather jacket.

Regis' smile turned softer still. "I was thinking perhaps tomorrow afternoon, or the day after that?"

"Tomorrow sounds good."

"Alright then." With that, Regis shot him one last smile before turning back to whatever project he had been working on before Geralt interrupted him.

Geralt headed back towards the rest of the office, and only once he knew he couldn't be seen did he reach up to touch the spot where Regis had kissed him. It was still tingling slightly.

What on earth had he gotten himself into?

 

The following afternoon had Regis turn up at the office right as they were closing up.

"Do you love work so much you have to stay a bit longer?" Milva teased as she put on her jacket. "Makes two of you, in that case."

"Already told you; I just need to finish this," Geralt retorted from across the room where he was still sharpening his silver sword.

"I'm not here to work, for once," Regis told Milva. "I'm simply waiting for Geralt."

"You've plans?" she asked. "Hope you're not going out for drinks without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it. I will simply help Geralt find some formal wear for the wedding," Regis explained.

"Will you now?"

"I will indeed."

"Well then." Milva shrugged and headed for the door. "Have fun, you two."

As the door closed behind Milva, Regis crossed the room and took a seat. "The concept of you buying formal clothes really is that foreign, isn't it?"

Geralt snorted. "Yeah. Don't really like the whole thing. Makes no sense to put on something that uncomfortable and expensive."

"But you cannot tell me you've never appreciated the way someone looks in formal wear?"

"Sure I have," Geralt said with a shrug. "Just isn't for me is all."

"I suppose that's fair."

Geralt turned his sword over, inspecting the edge. Deciding that it would do for now, he began putting it away. "Either way, gonna have to pull through for this wedding. Let's get going?"

Regis nodded. "Let's."

 

The shop Regis led him to was located in the Trade Quarter, a short walk from the office. They chatted as they walked, and Geralt was thankful to realise that the tension that had been between them last night had disappeared. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to pretend they were dating, after all. The whole wedding ordeal could just be getting to spend the weekend with one of his closest friends. It would be fine. Even if he did have to wear a suit.

There were a few other customers in the shop when they arrived, but they seemed too preoccupied with their own business to pay Geralt and Regis any mind. Good, Geralt thought; he was uncomfortable enough in a store like this even without people staring at his white hair and cat eyes. The shop itself was full of suits and shirts and all kinds of accessories, and to understand what would and wouldn't be appropriate for a wedding was more than confusing. Geralt would take a nekker nest over this any day.

Fortunately, Regis seemed more at ease and Geralt followed him as he made his way through the store. They stopped in front of a wall covered with an intimidating amount of ties and Geralt had to suppress a sigh. Regis, meanwhile, began running his fingers across the fabrics, turning them over to see how they shifted in the light.

"Really?" Geralt asked, more worried about the price tag than the fabric quality. "It said 'black tie optional', doesn't that mean I don't have to wear a tie if I don't want to?"

Regis turned around to look at him, frowning. He looked almost worried. "That . . . is not what it means, no."

Geralt crossed his arms and looked away. Part of why he hated formal wear was how stupid it all made him feel. "Not my fault they don't teach witchers this stuff," he muttered.

He felt a hand settle on his elbow and turned to meet Regis' gentle gaze. "I know," the vampire said, without judgement. "It's alright. I'd be happy to help you, if you want me to."

Geralt sighed. "Probably best if you do. At least you're asking though; Yen used to just tell me what to wear and that was that."

Regis gave his elbow a little squeeze. "I would never want to make you uncomfortable. For what it's worth though, I think you will look very handsome in a suit."

Geralt felt the tips of his ears heat up. He chuckled in a poor attempt to hide it, and could only hope Regis didn't notice. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get this over with?"

Regis smiled again before letting his hand drop and turning back to the ties. Now and then he asked Geralt for his opinion, but never seemed disappointed when Geralt didn't offer much eloquence. Eventually Geralt began feeling a bit more at ease.

"What do you think of this?" Regis asked a while later, indicating a black bowtie with very subtle silver threads woven into the fabric.

"Guessing you won't let me buy a clip-on version?" Geralt half-joked.

Regis chuckled. "A man of your talents? I think you can manage a bowtie. And if not, I'll help."

"Was worth a try," Geralt said with a shrug. "But yeah, looks good."

"Excellent." Regis took another identical bowtie from the wall and nodded towards another section of the shop. "Shall we move on?"

"There's more?"

"Why of course there is. Though do tell me, what do you own already? I don't want to miss anything. You have a dark suit, yes?"

"Yeah."

Regis nodded. "Good. And a white shirt?"

"Yeah."

"And proper shoes?" Regis glanced down at Geralt's boots. "Those might work for witchering, but not for a wedding."

"Whoever came up with formal clothing was a sadist," Geralt said. "But yeah, I have shoes."

"Suspenders?"

Geralt frowned. "I can't just wear a belt?"

"Suspenders would be more appropriate," Regis told him and led him through the store. "Just a simple pair of black ones will suffice."

Geralt sighed and grabbed the first pair that caught his eye. "Will these do?"

"They will." Regis regarded him in silence for a moment before placing a hand on Geralt's elbow again. "I feel like I'm forcing you into all of this," he said softly.

Geralt shook his head and smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring. "You're not. You're helping, really, I just know fuck all about these things. Just promise to never invite me to an event like this yourself and we're good."

"A sacrifice, definitely, but one I'd happily make for you, my friend." Instead of letting go of Geralt's arm, Regis led him over to the pocket squares. "We only need to choose one of these and then we'll be good to go."

Regis began to look over the various pocket squares in the same manner as he had the ties, but this time Geralt found it harder to focus and follow along. The reason for this was that Regis was still holding on to his arm, his thumb absentmindedly brushing up and down and with no apparent intention of letting go. Was he already trying to ease them both into the closeness they would need for the wedding? Or had he simply forgotten that they were touching in the first place? Geralt's brain was trying desperately to figure out Regis' reasoning rather than focus on how comfortable the contact was.

"What do you think about continuing with silver?" Regis asked, snapping Geralt's attention back to the task at hand. He was holding a new piece of fabric, white and soft as silk. It might even actually have been silk, but Geralt didn't know enough to tell. Just like the bowtie there were fine threads of silver woven into it which caught the light.

"If you think it'll work," Geralt said with a nod.

"I do," Regis confirmed. "And it would certainly be thematic for us both."

Geralt couldn't help but smile and roll his eyes as he took a pocket square for himself. "Why am I not surprised you'd reason like that?"

It was then that Regis seemed to realise that he was still holding Geralt's arm, and he dropped it with a stiff smile. "Pardon me," he said, clearing his throat. "Shall we be on our way?"

Geralt nodded. As they walked towards the register he tried not to think of how cold and empty the spot where Regis had kept his hand now felt.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the week flew past, as did the next, and the first day of the wedding arrived before Geralt knew it. Everything was packed into his car and he was as ready as he was ever going to be. Which was to say, not very ready at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kind comments so far! I'm so happy that people like this trope!
> 
> Again [Merulanoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merulanoir/pseuds/merulanoir) is my fantastic beta, fictional wedding planner and wardrobe master, as well as general motivational speaker!

The rest of the week flew past, as did the next, and the first day of the wedding arrived before Geralt knew it. Everything was packed into his car and he was as ready as he was ever going to be. Which was to say, not very ready at all.

Feeling that he had already burdened Regis enough with his poor knowledge of clothes, Geralt had asked Ciri for help with what to wear aside from the suit. As a result of her efforts he was now standing in front of his hallway mirror wearing slacks and a dress shirt, frowning at his reflection. He didn't look _bad_ , but he didn't look like himself either. He tugged at the collar for what felt like the hundredth time since putting the shirt on before finally giving up and undoing the top button. How did people breathe in these things?

Geralt closed his eyes with a sigh. It was only three days and then he could go back to normal. It would be worth it for getting to see Ciri be a bridesmaid, he told himself. And besides, Regis was going to be there the whole time. It wouldn't be so bad.

A short while later he was standing outside Regis' apartment door. He barely had time to knock before the door opened to reveal Regis, who smiled as he laid eyes on Geralt.

"My," he said, "don't you look dashing?"

Geralt swallowed and completely forgot to deflect Regis' words. The vampire was wearing a dark grey cardigan over a black dress shirt and somehow managed to look both elegant and casual at the same time. Unlike Geralt, he seemed to be perfectly comfortable and looked like he actually belonged in the clothes he was wearing. That Regis was dressing neatly was far from anything new, but somehow Geralt felt like he was only now appreciating it for the first time.

He cleared his throat, realising that seconds were passing and he still hadn't said anything. "Hello to you too," he finally got out. "Ready to get going?"

"As I'll ever be." Regis opened the door wider and walked further into his apartment, only to return a second later with a garment bag and a small suitcase. Geralt took them from him, which brought another smile to Regis' lips as he locked the apartment door behind him and they descended the stairs together.

"Cirilla is not riding with us?" Regis asked upon seeing the empty car.

"Nah," Geralt replied as he loaded Regis' things into the trunk. "Triss is taking her. Bridesmaid stuff or something."

Regis nodded, looking thoughtful. "I suppose that's for the best. We wouldn't want to be subjected to the questions she likely has about us before we have had the time to talk things through."

Geralt frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I suspect she will want to know for how long we've been together, for starters. And given her inquisitive nature possibly more than that."

"Oh." Geralt had completely forgotten about that. "Like a cover story?"

"If you will. But it's something to discuss on the way there." Regis smiled and gave Geralt's arm a brief pat. "Let's get going."

 

"So," Geralt began once they were on the road leading out of Vizima, "how did we get together?"

"Hm. She already knows we work with each other," Regis mused. "Perhaps we simply tell her I had been interested in you for a long time and finally gathered enough courage to do something about it?"

"Really think that sounds plausible?" Grealt asked.

"Whyever wouldn't it?"

"Well you're—" Geralt glanced at Regis and gestured in his general direction. "—you're _you_ and I'm just . . . I don't know." He sighed and put both hands back on the steering wheel.

Regis was silent long enough that Geralt started to worry. He was usually more comfortable when nothing was said than when people were talking, but for Regis a moment too long of silence was uncharacteristic enough that Geralt couldn't help but feel that he had said something wrong.

He took a turn then, and before he could pull his hand back from the gearshift Regis covered it with his own, startling him.

"I fear you think too highly of me and too little of yourself, my friend," Regis said before drawing his hand back to himself.

Geralt wanted to turn and face him properly, but he had to keep his eyes on the road and could only risk a quick glance. Regis was looking away from him, out his window.

Geralt cleared his throat. "Okay. We'll go with what you said. If you think it'll work, I trust you." He paused, sighing. He just wanted Regis to back to his normal, cheerful self. "So where did you take me?" he continued after a moment, his voice soft. "For our first date?"

"There's a small Nazairi restaurant a few blocks away from my apartment," Regis told him without skipping a beat. "It's quite lovely and they have excellent wine."

Geralt nodded. "Sounds like we had a great time." He turned to offer Regis a quick smile and found that the vampire was looking at him again, something happier glinting in his eyes. "This would have been a few months ago, March maybe?"

"April," Regis suggested. "You can't have kept us a secret for too long, it might seem suspicious."

"April it is then. And I didn't say anything to Ciri because I thought she'd feel weird about her dad seeing someone new."

"And does she?"

Geralt shook his head, an affectionate smile finding its way to his lips. "No. She's excited, even. Think she'll be happy it's you, too."

"You haven't mentioned me by name?" Regis asked. He didn't sound offended.

"Thought I'd avoid more questions that way. And hopefully people will be too preoccupied with Yen and Istredd to think too much about us."

"Time will tell."

The conversation drifted to other topics after that, and less than two hours later they reached the coast. Soon after, they arrived at the luxurious estate where the wedding would be held. Geralt had to admit that Yen had an eye for beauty; the grounds were stunning, and he had no doubt the indoors would match.

After parking the car, Geralt and Regis grabbed their bags and headed for the main building. As they came closer they saw Yennefer and Istredd standing just outside the entrance, greeting guests.

"Are you ready for this?" Regis asked quietly before they got too close.

Geralt was nervous, that much was true. He tried to hide it by giving Regis a crooked smile. "Have to be, don't I?"

"Everything will go well," Regis told him. He brushed his free hand against Geralt's then, but Geralt couldn't tell whether it was meant to be reassuring or for show. Perhaps both.

When they approached their hosts, Geralt was greeted with a hug from Yennefer. "Welcome," she said as she pulled back. Her attention shifted to Regis then and her eyes lit up with curiosity. "Is this your—?"

"Yeah," Geralt confirmed. "This is Regis. Regis, this is Yennefer and Istredd."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Regis said, polite as ever, as he shook their hands. Geralt received a handshake from Istredd as well, though it felt as if it was mostly out of obligation.

"Likewise," Yennefer told Regis. "It's about time Geralt found something serious. We shall have to talk more later, but right now I suspect you want to go put your bags away. The receptionist is just inside, she'll point you to your room."

More guests were arriving and Geralt saw no reason to take up more of Yen's time than they had to, so he and Regis walked inside the large building.

As he had suspected, the interior was just as extravagant as the exterior. Everything was richly decorated, including the grand staircase that served as the centerpiece of the foyer. Just as Yen had said, a receptionist was waiting nearby. She gave them the keys to their room and directed them upstairs.

"I've never mingled much with mages," Regis admitted as they walked up the staircase, "but they do share certain preferences with many of my own kind. The parties I attended in my youth often took place in mansions such as this one."

"Never pegged you for the extravagant type," Geralt told him.

"It is true that I have a tendency towards the more humble, but then again I have also chosen to live closer to humans than to my brethren. Regardless, this is quite nostalgic. Sans the blood drinking, of course."

"Can't know that for sure. They're mages, like you said," Geralt joked.

Regis chuckled. "Then I expect this weekend might be interesting in more ways than one."

Just as the rest of the building, the guest rooms were spacious and neat. But Geralt thought less about that and more about the fact that his and Regis' room only had one bed. A large one, sure, but still just the one.

Regis didn't seem to pay this any mind. Not wanting to make it weird, Geralt kept quiet as well. If it would be a problem, it wouldn't be one until later. He tore his eyes away from the offending piece of furniture and saw that Regis was holding a fancy piece of paper in his hands.

"What's that?" Geralt asked.

Regis held it up, showing Geralt the front of it where _Istredd & Yennefer _ was printed in flowy, golden script. "Some information about the weekend, including a schedule," Regis explained, returning his attention to the text on the back of the sheet.

"Anything interesting?" Geralt asked, looking around for a good place to hang the bag with his suit in it.

Regis hummed. "As for today, dinner will be served at seven. Before that there will apparently be some sort of scavenger hunt."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Geralt asked, frowning. He found that one of the mirrors was actually a sliding door which revealed a closet, and hung his garment bag in there.

"It doesn't say, but I reckon we will find out in due time. We're supposed to be in the gardens for that event in an hour."

Geralt looked around the room. "What're we supposed to do until then?"

Regis grinned. "Why, we mingle, of course."

"You're actually excited about all this," Geralt said, a bit disbelieving.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Regis asked, strolling over to the window next to where Geralt was standing. "The venue is beautiful and the company is excellent. Two key features for a good event, don't you agree?"

Geralt chuckled and followed Regis' gaze through the window. The trees outside were all decorated with hundreds of tiny white ribbons which fluttered in the wind. "Can agree on the venue, but you haven't met Yen's friends yet."

"I didn't mean them."

Geralt cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. "Thanks again, for doing this," he finally said. "I'm way outta my element here."

"Everything will go fine," Regis assured him. "Who knows, you might even end up having fun."

 

Fun wasn't exactly how Geralt would describe mingling with the other guests, but having Regis next to him definitely helped. As did the champagne flute he emptied a bit too quickly.

The reactions from Yen's friends were varied. They ranged from barely contained dislike to intrigued fascination, caused either by him being a witcher or by him being Yen's ex. Geralt didn't dwell on any of it too much; he was used to many kinds of attention by now. What he instead found himself focusing on was what people seemed to think about him and Regis. He was steeling himself for judgement and harsh words, but to his relief he found that it never came. There were some that looked at them as if they were some sort of novelty, but most were surprisingly polite. Regis handled everything with ease and Geralt honestly didn't know how he would have managed without him.

Eventually they managed to find Dandelion, and after that the rest of the hour passed quickly. Soon enough Yen and Istredd were calling for everyone's attention, their voices magically enhanced to carry across the crowd. They officially welcomed everybody and then proceeded to introduce the mystery scavenger hunt. It didn't seem like anything Geralt would have classified as entertainment, but it did suit Yennefer.

Once she was finished speaking the guest started heading off in different directions, excited chatter spreading amongst the crowd. Dandelion joined the rest, suddenly walking arm in arm with a woman that had not been next to him only moments earlier. Geralt was about to turn to Regis to ask where he thought they should go, when a delighted laugh made him turn around. It was all the warning he got before Ciri slammed into him, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

"There you are! I have been looking for you all afternoon and I was honestly beginning to think you had chickened out," she said as she took a step back.

"Hey kid," Geralt greeted. "Really thought I'd miss seeing you be a bridesmaid?"

"Not really," Ciri admitted. Her eyes moved to Regis then, widening in surprise. "Regis? I didn't know you'd be here."

Geralt was unsure what to say, but before he had the time to worry Ciri was looking back and forth between him and Regis, her eyes lighting up as a grin spread across her face.

"Wait, are you—? Is Regis who you're—?"

Geralt cleared his throat. "Yeah, he is. We are."

Ciri laughed and hugged Geralt again, holding him even tighter this time. "I want to hear everything," she told him once she pulled away. "Mamma won't notice if we skip the scavenger hunt and it's kind of weird anyway. Come on!" She began walking backwards, evidently wanting to make sure they followed her.

Geralt smiled and let out a relieved sigh. That Ciri approved of them, even if the relationship wasn't real, meant the world to him. He looked at Regis and didn't resist the sudden urge to hold out his hand to him. Regis took it without hesitation and they followed Ciri away from the prying eyes and ears of the other guests.

Ciri led them to a small, secluded pond shaded by willows. Two benches faced the water and Ciri sat down on one of them, gesturing for Geralt and Regis to take the other. They did, and neither let go of the other's hand.

"Alright then," Ciri said, grinning and leaning forward in her seat. "How long has this been going on?"

"A few months," Geralt told her, recalling the conversation he and Regis had in the car. "Sorry for not telling you." _And sorry for lying to you now_ , he added in his head.

"You're telling me now," Ciri pointed out softly. "And . . . I know you worry that I'm going to think it's weird, that you're seeing someone, but I don't. I'm happy for you. Both of you." She turned her smile to Regis as well.

"That means a lot, Cirilla. Geralt values your approval higher than anyone else's. Thank you," he said, smiling back.

"Please, call me Ciri. And besides," Ciri said, attempting to hide the fact that she was blushing slightly, "I'm just glad at least one of my parents has some taste. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that Istredd makes mamma happy, but he's just so _dull_."

Geralt turned to Regis, a smile tugging at his lips. "Hm. Lotta things that can be said about you, but 'dull' sure isn't one of them."

"My, such flattery," Regis chuckled.

On the other bench, Ciri let out a happy little sigh. "You look so sweet together. Can I ask how it happened? How did you know you wanted to be more than friends?" Her face suddenly shifted into a panicked frown. "Unless it's something dirty. Because then I do not wish to hear it. Ever."

"You've nothing to worry about," Regis assured. As he continued speaking, his gaze drifted out over the water. "It's rather innocent, as far as these things go. I had been interested in your father for quite some time, but never dared to say anything. And once I did, he was completely oblivious to it. It wasn't until April that he finally understood my intentions were romantic." Regis chuckled again, and while Geralt was surprised at the new detail to their cover story he had to admit it added some flavour. He couldn't think of anything to say himself, so he just smiled and ducked his head.

"That does sound like him," Ciri agreed. "All those years of fighting monsters has made his skull a bit thick."

"Hey!" Geralt objected without any heat.

Ciri gave his arm a gentle shove. "I'm just happy that you stopped being stupid and realised he was flirting with you. You deserve to be loved, dad."

Geralt let go of Regis hand and reached for Ciri, pulling her into a tight hug. What had he done to be blessed with such a wonderful daughter? "Thanks, kid," he breathed, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. He let her go then, and brushed her hair back into place. "Go on, you'd better get back before anyone misses you. If Yen notices you've snuck away you'll never hear the end of it."

Ciri pouted. "But the two of you are much more interesting than the wedding!"

Geralt raised an eyebrow, taking care to look as unimpressed as possible.

"Ugh, _fine_ ," Ciri groaned. She rolled her eyes and stood up before slowly walking back to the gardens.

"She's still watching us from behind the hedges," Geralt murmured, having picked up on exactly where Ciri's footsteps had halted.

Regis hummed, then reached up to kiss Geralt's temple. "Was that enough to make her leave?" he asked, shuffling slightly so that he could rest his head against Geralt's shoulder.

Geralt blinked. The weight of Regis against his shoulder and the surprise kiss a moment earlier caught him off balance. "I can't hear her," he admitted. In case Ciri was still watching, he wrapped his arm around Regis and held him closer. Regis' cardigan was very soft against the palm of his hand.

Regis was silent for a moment, his head twitching just a little. "She just left," he said then, but made no move to pull back.

Geralt let out a heavy sigh and dragged his free hand across his face. "Didn't realise she'd be this happy. She'll be so damn pissed when I'll have to tell her we've broken up."

Regis inhaled as if to say something, but it never came.

"I hate lying to her," Geralt told him.

"I know." Regis reached for the hand Geralt had around his waist and gave it a light squeeze.

It should have felt too intimate or too awkward, sitting like this. It should have been a bit too much. But Geralt found that it was only comforting. He didn't want to leave, and for a good few minutes they just sat there in silence.

"Hey, where did you get that idea from?" Geralt asked after a while. "About me not picking up on your, uh, romantic advances?"

"What?" Regis asked, his body tensing. Geralt frowned a bit; It wasn't like Regis to be forgetful.

"That thing you told Ciri. We never talked about it earlier. Don't get me wrong though, it was a good detail. Just curious where you got it from, is all."

"Oh." Regis pulled himself up to sitting straight, and Geralt reluctantly let him go. "I suppose it was just a spur of the moment kind of decision. And like Ciri said, it would be rather in character for you."

"Come on, I'm not so stupid I don't notice when I'm being flirted with."

"No?" Regis wore an unreadable expression as he turned to face him.

"I'm not," Geralt repeated. "But Ciri bought it, so I don't mind."

"If you say so," Regis hummed. "For how long do you think this scavenger hunt shall be going on?"

Geralt shrugged. "Dunno. A while?"

"I suppose you're right. I've half a mind just to stay here until it's time for dinner," Regis mused.

"Thought you liked social gatherings."

"I do. But I like the peace and quiet just as much. It's nice here."

Geralt glanced at Regis and their eyes met for a moment, before Geralt turned his gaze to the still waters of the pond.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah, it is."

 

They returned to the mansion shortly before seven, making their way to the dining hall just in time to catch up with the other guests. No one had sat down yet, and Istredd and Yen were standing in the middle of it all, already speaking.

"—time for some food, don't you think?" Yennefer finished, causing most of the guests to smile and nod.

"Not all of you know each other," Istredd continued, "and to prompt new friendships we're leaving the seating up to chance tonight. Everyone, hold out your hands."

Geralt frowned but did as he was asked, and around him everyone else did the same. Istredd then twisted his hands in a complicated motion and said a few arcane words. A soft glow and some sparks appeared in everyone's palms, and once they died down they left behind a slip of paper.

"You've been given a random number," Istredd announced. "Please find the corresponding table and the food will shortly be served. Welcome!"

Something twisted in Geralt's gut as he looked at the piece of paper in his hand. He turned to Regis. "What's yours say?"

"Five," he replied. "Yours?"

Geralt's gut twisted again and his face fell. "Eight." It seemed like he was going to have to suffer through some social interaction all on his own after all.

Regis seemed to know what he was thinking, and reached out to take his hand. "It'll be alright," he assured. "It's just for dinner."

"Thanks," he sighed. He gave Regis' hand a squeeze before he forced himself to go find table number eight.

Fortunately, he ended up at the same table as Dandelion. His friend was happy to see him, and managed to raise his spirits somewhat. Despite this, Geralt still felt compelled to choose a seat that let him see Regis a few tables over. The vampire seemed to have had the same idea, and when their eyes met across the crowd they shared a smile. It probably wasn't a great idea, Geralt thought, to be so dependent on Regis' company to get through this whole event, but he also couldn't find it in himself to care enough to do anything about it.

The food was delicious, and Dandelion managed to entrance the entire table into one of his anecdotes, which meant Geralt didn't have to do a lot of talking. As he listened, his eyes kept drifting to Regis. He was seated next to Ciri, and Geralt could only imagine what kind of secrets she was spilling about him. Regardless of what they spoke of they seemed to get along very well, which made Geralt's chest tighten with fondness.

He liked Regis, a lot. He tried to think of anyone else he would have trusted enough to attend this wedding with, but couldn't come up with a single name. Geralt only hoped he wasn't making Regis uncomfortable with this whole ordeal.

Naturally, Geralt's luck didn't last and Dandelion couldn't keep everyone's attention for the entire dinner. By the time dessert was being served, Geralt felt a leg press against his underneath the table. He pulled away, but instead felt his neighbour lean towards him.

"Don't be shy," she murmured, low enough that only he could hear.

Geralt looked up at her. She was beautiful, with graceful features and curly hair that seemed to glow in the candlelight; she was just the kind of woman Geralt would usually be drawn to. Right now, however, he experienced nothing but discomfort.

"I'm not shy," Geralt replied, speaking just as low as she had. He didn't remember her name, but believed it might start with an L. "Here with my boyfriend, though." The word slipped through before he had any chance to think it over. His spoon stilled against his plate as he realised what he had said.

It was nothing to fret about, he tried to tell himself. Boyfriends was exactly what he and Regis were pretending to be this weekend. Still, they had never said the word aloud and it made everything seem more real, somehow. Even if it wasn't, not at all. Besides, "boyfriend" seemed insufficient when it came to a centuries old vampire.

The woman didn't seem to notice his inner conflict. "Your boyfriend?" she purred. "Maybe the two of you would like some additional company later?"

Geralt was glad he didn't have any food in his mouth because he would surely have choked on it. He hadn't been propositioned quite so bluntly in a long time, and certainly not for a threesome. "Don't think so, no," he managed to tell her.

"Oh well, it never hurts to try," the woman said with a shrug.

Geralt finally looked up from his plate, and as his eyes drifted towards Regis he saw that the vampire was watching him. He must have noticed how flustered Geralt was, as he sent him a questioning look across the room. Geralt shook his head, hoping that indicated there was nothing to worry about.

Regis didn't seem to drop it however, and breached the subject later once the dinner had ended and turned into another round of mingling.

"That woman at your table, what did she say?" Regis asked when no one else was talking to them and they were granted a moment of relative privacy.

"She, uh . . ." Geralt was suddenly feeling flustered and the words didn't want to come through. It was strange, because the topic of sex hadn't been awkward for him since he was very young.

Thankfully, Regis was clever enough to guess. "She wished to sleep with you."

"Yup," Geralt confirmed. "Said no, obviously."

Regis narrowed his eyes somewhat as he looked at him, like he was trying to figure something out. "You weren't tempted?"

"No. I'd never cheat on anybody," Geralt said, frowning. "Even if we're not . . . You know." He didn't want to say the words out loud, in case someone was listening. It would only cause trouble. He cleared his throat. "If you'd find anyone interesting though, that'd be okay. Fair, even, since I dragged you here."

Regis let out a surprised chuckle, then shook his head. "No. I'm rather committed to making this seem believable," he told him quietly. To prove his words he wrapped an arm around Geralt's waist, making them stand a little bit closer to each other as he looked out over the crowd. "Besides, I have not met anyone here that catches my eye."

Geralt turned his head to look at him. "Now that you mention it, I don't think I've heard you say you're seeing someone. Ever."

"I suppose it has been a while since I did," Regis agreed, still looking at the rest of the room. "But time matters little to my kind, as you know."

"Still. We've known each other for what, five years? Seems long enough to go without, given the, uh, reputation your kind has."

"Your assumption is based on the belief that I would tell you about every fling I would potentially have," Regis said, but neither confirmed nor denied it. "Besides, witchers are hardly known for their chastity either, and I haven't heard about you being in any serious relationship since you broke things off with Yennefer."

"Now who's doing the assuming," Geralt muttered, which prompted a chuckle from Regis. Regis was right, of course; Geralt hadn't had anything more than casual sex in the past years since he and Yen split. He didn't like to dwell on it though, because it just reminded him of the fact that he missed not being lonely. And the way Regis kept holding him close throughout the rest of the evening wasn't helping one bit.

 

Given that breakfast was scheduled to be served relatively early the following day, most people started to retire to their rooms around midnight. Neither Geralt nor Regis felt any particular desire to stay up later, so they followed suit.

"I daresay it's going rather well so far," Regis said as he closed the door behind them.

"Yeah," Geralt agreed, a bit surprised. "Guess it is. One down, two to go."

"Indeed." The look Regis gave him seemed to hold a lot of weight, but Geralt couldn't for the life of him figure out what was behind it.

Regis was the first to use the bathroom, and while he waited for his turn Geralt was once again reminded of the problem he had noticed earlier that day. The big, lone bed seemed to taunt him, but he couldn't do much more than glare at it. He couldn't even tell why it bothered him so much; Physical intimacy had never been an issue for him. Hell, back when he was training to be a witcher it had been something constant and comforting as they all shoved and hugged each other, or slept close to each other to keep warm whenever they weren't granted any other heatsource. Regis was a good friend and it should have been no different. Yet for some reason it was.

Geralt was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the bathroom door clicking open as Regis emerged. Geralt grabbed his things and headed for the bathroom, weakly hoping that splashing some cold water on his face would make the bed seem like less of a problem.

Naturally, it didn't. And when Geralt returned to the main room Regis had already made himself comfortable under the covers, which only served to make things worse. Regis was writing something in a notebook, but he looked up to meet Geralt's eyes. Evidently his frustration was visible on his face.

"Is something the matter?" Regis asked, closing the notebook. He had exchanged his dress shirt for a soft, grey t-shirt for the night. Some part of Geralt's mind remarked that he had never seen Regis in short sleeves before.

He shook his head, both to clear it and to respond. "No. Just tired, is all."

He went to his bag to change his own clothes, turning his back to Regis as he unbuttoned his shirt and replaced it with an old tee as quickly as he could. When he moved to take off his trousers his hand stilled on his belt as he realised he hadn't brought any sweatpants. Should he have? He hadn't been able to tell if Regis was wearing any. If he was, would he be uncomfortable if Geralt went without?

He clenched his jaw and gave himself a mental slap. There was literally nothing he could do about this. He took his trousers off and shoved them into his suitcase with a little bit more force than was necessary. Geralt turned towards the bed then, looking down at the empty half reserved for him. It was still taunting him and he desperately wished the room would have had a sofa. There were some extra blankets, however, and the floor next to the bed seemed pretty spacious. His mind made up, Geralt took the pillows from his side of the bed and knelt down to place them on the floor.

"Geralt? What on earth are you doing?" Regis asked. Geralt risked a glance and saw that Regis was sitting up, confused.

"Don't wanna intrude," Geralt explained. "So I'll sleep on the floor. It's no problem."

Regis scoffed. "Do you really think I would have agreed to this whole idea if I wasn't comfortable with the thought of sharing a bed with you? There's plenty of room for the both of us, don't be ridiculous."

Geralt didn't know what to say. Instead he just stayed there, glaring down at the pillows as the seconds ticked past.

"Geralt?" Regis said eventually, though this time his voice was very, very soft. "Just come to bed."

The words sent a shiver down Geralt's spine, and he found himself wondering what it would be like to hear them again, in a different context altogether. He pushed the thought away, knowing that it would grow into something messy and uncomfortable if he let it take root.

He closed his eyes and sighed, and when he opened them again he picked the pillows back up. He put them back into place and then crawled underneath the covers, lying on his back with his arms wrapped around himself, staring up at the ceiling; It wasn't very comfortable, despite the fine quality of the bed. "If I hog the blanket you have no one to blame but yourself."

From the corner of his eye he could see Regis laying back down, and shortly after there was a click followed by the lights in the room going out. "Good night, Geralt." Regis' voice was still soft, and somehow too close and too far away at the same time.

"Night, Regis," Geralt replied, focusing on making his breathing even and slow.

He could hear Regis next to him, breathing steadily and sometimes rustling the sheets by shifting his position. Geralt tried to let it fade into background noise, but for some damn reason he remained acutely aware of Regis next to him, just an arm's length away.

It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you can all understand why this is tagged "idiots to lovers".
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you like it this <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt's eyes shot open as he came to the realisation that the soft fabric against his cheek was not that of a pillowcase. Because a pillow didn't slowly rise and fall with a steady rhythm, nor did it smell of wormwood and cinnamon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read this so far! This chapter is the biggest chunk of the fic, I hope you'll like it!
> 
> And a continued shoutout to [Merulanoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merulanoir/pseuds/merulanoir) for betaing and for being awesome and enthusiastic! They also drew a little something for this chapter!

When Geralt first woke up the next morning, the barest trace of soft sunlight was seeping into the room and there were . . . fingers carding through his hair. It felt nice and he was still very tired, so he sighed and drifted off again.

The next time he stirred from sleep his surroundings were much brighter. It took him a few moments to remember where he was, and once that particular disorientation passed he started to register the odd angle his body was lying in.

His eyes shot open as he came to the realisation that the soft fabric against his cheek was not that of a pillowcase. Because a pillow didn't slowly rise and fall with a steady rhythm, nor did it smell of wormwood and cinnamon.

Geralt's entire body froze as he took in the full extent of his situation. His head and left hand were resting on top of Regis' chest, right where he could feel a strong heartbeat every few seconds. If they had just brushed against each other while asleep Geralt wouldn't have been too bothered, but right now he was lying practically on top of Regis and he had no idea how he was going to explain his way out of it. At least Regis seemed somewhat complicit, judging by the hand resting on Geralt's upper arm. And by how their legs seemed to have tangled together under the covers.

Oh gods.

Geralt pushed himself away, rolling over on his back. He didn't get nearly far enough onto his own half of the bed, and while he had managed to get his legs free, Regis' arm was now trapped between the bed and Geralt's back. Before he could move further, Regis stirred.

Geralt watched with wide and worried eyes as the vampire blinked awake. He looked down at his chest first, a bit confused, and when Geralt followed the trail of his gaze he saw a damp patch on Regis' shirt. Geralt brought a hand to the corner of his mouth and yes, he had definitely been drooling. Perfect.

The movement made Regis turn his head in Geralt's direction. A sleepy smile spread across his lips. "Good morning."

"Morning," Geralt croaked. Against his shoulder, Regis' fingers wiggled. "Sorry," he said, letting Regis pull his arm free.

Regis settled on his side then, hands beneath his cheek. "Have you been awake long?"

"No," Geralt replied, trying to gauge whether Regis was aware of just how close they had been sleeping. He didn't seem embarrassed, but then again that wasn't something Geralt had ever seen him be.

Geralt's own embarrassment must have been evident, however, because Regis' brows knitted together. "Is something the matter?"

"No," Geralt said again. The fact that he remained lying on his back with his arms across his chest probably did little to help him seem convincing, but he just didn't know what else to do with his body. It was feeling . . . off. Cold where it was no longer pressed against Regis. For a fleeting moment he entertained the thought of just moving right back to where he had been, but he doubted Regis would accept that; The closeness they had shared yesterday while other people were watching was one thing, and this something else altogether.

Regis didn't look like he believed him, but he didn't press the subject. "What time is it?" he asked instead, his voice still rough with sleep and—if Geralt were to be honest—unfairly attractive.

As Geralt processed the thought he screwed his eyes shut. He thought he managed to hide it as he reached for his nightstand, fumbling for his phone. "Seven forty-five," he said after a look on the display, hoping he wasn't embarrassing himself beyond salvation.

"Shame," Regis hummed. "I would have liked to stay like this a while longer."

Geralt turned his head to look at the vampire. He wanted to . . . to do something, but he couldn't put his finger on what. He settled on just _wanting_ , and knew that that was bad enough.

Regis watched him with those black eyes of his, growing more and more alert as sleep left him. It should have been too much, too heavy, too loaded to just watch each other like that but Geralt found that he didn't care. It was strangely nice, and for a little while that was all that mattered.

But it couldn't last forever.

"We should probably get up," Regis said eventually. "We don't want to miss breakfast."

"Yeah. I need to shower, but you can go first if you want."

Regis shook his head. "It's alright, you go."

Geralt sighed and forced himself to sit up, stretching as he went.

Once in the bathroom, he looked at his own face in the mirror. His gaze fell on his short beard and as a hand came up to scratch it, a thought popped into his head. "Regis?" he said through the door, knowing he didn't need to raise his voice. "Am I supposed to shave?"

There was a moment's pause before the reply came. "That is entirely up to you, my friend."

Geralt sighed. "Yeah, but is it, I don't know, appropriate?"

"Some would argue that a clean shaven face is better suited for a formal event such as tonight, unless the beard is meticulously cared for." It would have been easy to think that Regis was reading from somewhere, but Geralt knew it was just the way he talked. The thought made him smile.

Geralt turned his face in the mirror again, then shrugged. He wasn't overly attached anyway. "Fuck it."

One shave and one shower later, Geralt was ready to let Regis have his turn in the bathroom. It was also then that he realised all of his clothes were still in his suitcase. Just great. He stifled a groan at his own stupidity before wrapping his towel tightly around his waist. It was only Regis; it shouldn't be a big deal.

Except when Geralt stepped through the door Regis did look at him, and his gaze stayed on Geralt's chest and arms a little too long for it to be just a glance. Geralt tried to ignore it and headed for his suitcase, turning his back to Regis. The attention made him shiver, but he didn't know if it was in a good or a bad way.

"Forgive me," Regis said, his voice a bit unsteady. "I hadn't realised the full extent of just how dangerous the witcher profession can be. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable." With that, there was some rustling of fabric followed by the sound of the bathroom door closing.

Geralt sighed and hurried to get dressed as he tried to clear his mind. He knew he was lucky, when it came to his scars: He had many, yet not even the one across his eye had managed to distort his features too much. A lot of witchers had ended up with far worse fates. Still, he couldn't help but feel self-conscious about the patchwork that was his skin, and he didn't like people seeing it.

Eventually, Regis returned from the bathroom as well. He had evidently had some more forethought than Geralt, and was already dressed when he emerged. His clothes were similar to those he had worn yesterday, though today the grey dress shirt had been exchanged for a dark green one with a black pattern of tiny somethings. Geralt wanted to get close enough to see what they were.

He averted his eyes before he did something stupid, then nodded towards the door. "Ready to go when you are."

Regis reached for the same cardigan he had worn the day before and put it on, while Geralt's mind saw it fit to remind him of how soft it had been.

"It's nice," he said before he could stop himself. Regis looked up, somewhat confused. "Your clothes are. Nice. You dress well," Geralt explained, fumbling his way through the words like the idiot he was. If he had been a normal human, his face would have been red as a beetroot by now, but thankfully he could only feel a slight raise in temperature on his skin. He cleared his throat. "Don't think I've said that before."

Regis' confusion turned into a soft smile. If Geralt hadn't been so busy being flustered himself, he might have described it as bashful. "That's kind of you," Regis told him. "Thank you. And I think you look rather handsome yourself."

Geralt blinked. Regis' words lacked the gently teasing tone they usually had. While they had never been malicious before, they had never felt quite this earnest either. Geralt didn't know what to do with that. "Let's go eat," he said and headed for the door before he could continue making a fool of himself.

 

As expected, breakfast was an extravagant affair. The buffet was so extensive that Geralt had to wonder if even half of it was necessary, but he rationalised it as soon as he remembered who had planned it all.

Between him and Regis the air was tense for the first minutes, Geralt's fundamental awkwardness still hanging between them and making it hard to speak. When Regis finally returned to his usual verbose nature Geralt let out a small sigh of relief, because the thought of having messed things up with one of the few good friends he had was making his stomach twist with worry.

By the time breakfast was over, things felt like they were back to normal. They were walking together to the gardens for another of Yen and Istredd's planned activities. Geralt wasn't feeling too hopeful for what it might entail—he had been with Yen to enough parties in the past to know that a good sword fight unfortunately didn't classify as entertainment to these people.

True enough, the event for the remainder of the morning seemed as bizarre as it seemed boring; They were to fill out a guest book. There was going to be some fancy decorating, sure, but it was all the same to Geralt. And since only so many people could be working on one page of the book at the same time, they were expected to mingle while they waited their turn. Geralt was seriously considering just to go back to the room and take a nap, but he knew Yen would never let him hear the end of it if he didn't participate.

At least it was nice to see Ciri be excited about it, quickly grabbing one of the instant cameras available and starting to snap pictures. Geralt tried to protest when she wanted to take one of him and Regis, but Regis just wrapped an arm around him.

"What's the harm?" he asked with a gentle smile, and Geralt found that he didn't have it in him to argue. He wrapped his own arm around Regis, then there was a flash and it was over, the photograph put aside for later while it developed.

Ciri asked Regis to take one of her and Geralt next. To get back at her for making him pose, Geralt made sure to ruffle Ciri's hair right as Regis took the picture. It earned him a high-pitch squeal before Ciri tried to grab onto Geralt's ponytail in retaliation, but he was too quick for her and ducked out of the way.

"You're the worst," Ciri told him, but still put the picture away with the rest once she got it back from Regis.

Dandelion chose that moment to appear, looking a bit frantic as he grabbed Regis by the arm and turned his back to the crowd. Geralt didn't get a chance to ask what it was all about before Ciri dragged him with her over to where Yennefer was standing and talking to one of her friends.

Yennefer needed no convincing, and soon Geralt was taking a picture of Ciri and Yen together. For a split second it felt like old times, back when the three of them were a family, but the feeling quickly left him; they worked much better with how things were now.

Ciri took the camera and photograph back before moving on in pursuit of more targets. Geralt intended to return to Regis and Dandelion, but a hand touched his arm.

"Can I have a moment?" Yennefer asked.

Geralt nodded, not knowing what to expect. "'Course."

"I'm starting to think I should have bought more film. Given how she seems inclined to use up at least half of it by herself." Despite the words, Yennefer's tone was fond rather than criticising.

"You're telling me. She already made me pose twice," Geralt scoffed, but his voice held the same fondness.

"Twice? That must be a new record for you. I seem to remember I could hardly ever get you to agree to that."

"Yeah. She wanted one with the two of us and one of me and Regis." Geralt looked over to where Regis was standing, still talking to Dandelion.

Yennefer followed his gaze. "You look sweet together. I think he's good for you."

It felt like a different kind of deception, to know that they had managed to fool Yen. Though whether that said more about how convincing he and Regis were or about how much of a mess he and Yen had been, Geralt didn't know.

"Thanks," he managed to say after a moment.

Yennefer chuckled. "No need to seem so surprised. I'm happy you're moving on. It's only right that we both do." She paused, and her smile turned more curious. "I never knew you liked men."

Geralt shrugged, trying to seem unaffected; he had never prepared for having this conversation with her. "Always liked both. Just didn't seem too relevant when we were together."

Yennefer seemed to sense his discomfort and put her hand on Geralt's arm. He was grateful, but somewhere in the back of his head a voice told him that her hand was too small, too delicate. "I understand," she told him softly. "I didn't judge Ciri when she came out and I am not judging you now. Like I said: I'm happy for you."

"Thanks," Geralt said again. "And I'm happy for you too. You deserve this."

Before she let go of his arm, Yen gave it a light squeeze. "Thank you. Now go back to him, I can tell you want to."

She turned around to talk to someone else then, and Geralt was left a bit dazed as he made his way back through the crowd. He found Regis soon enough and came to stand next to him, taking his hand.

Dandelion had been saying something, but stopped mid-sentence. He looked at their joined hands then grinned and raised his eyebrows. "You know, I didn't expect you to be so committed to this con of yours."

Geralt dropped Regis' hand and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Dandelion's words made him realise that touching Regis was quickly becoming second nature and he worried what that might mean. "It's not a con," he pointed out.

"Then what is it?"

"Something convenient," Regis offered. "Besides, I'd say what we're doing is preferable to what you have been up to."

Geralt raised an eyebrow, wondering what he must have missed.

"Our friend here," Regis continued, "has made some valiant effort in order to—how did you put it? _—score_ during this wedding. So valiant, in fact, that the various targets of his affections have learned of each other. They have now banded together and he is currently using me to hide from them all."

"How many?" Geralt asked, shaking his head.

"Four," Dandelion sighed.

"And you really thought that wouldn't end badly?"

Regis shook his head. "That is what I've been trying to tell him. Where did you run off to?"

"Ciri just wanted me to take a picture of her and Yen."

"Isn't it weird?" Dandelion asked, jumping at the chance of changing the subject. "Being at your ex's wedding?"

"We're friends. She's also the mother of my daughter. Be weird if I wasn't here."

"Yeah, I gue _—_ Oh no." Dandelion suddenly looked very worried. "They're coming this way, I gotta hide." Then he was making his way through the crowd with surprising speed, vanishing before either Geralt or Regis could say anything.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" Regis asked after a moment.

Geralt shrugged. "Not the first time this has happened, and most likely not the last."

Regis hummed in agreement. The rest of the morning passed as they were standing in the busy gardens, talking to other guests but mostly to each other. At one point Ciri made them both go sign their names in the guest book, but they thankfully didn't have to participate in gluing photographs and coloured paper onto the page.

Like the evening before, Geralt kept staying close to Regis and trusting in his superior social skills to get them through the crowd. They kept touching and while it was a way to make their relationship seem real, Geralt also had to fight off the small voice in the back of his head that told him he was just looking for an excuse. For the time being, he managed to keep the voice at bay. As he was standing with his arm wrapped around Regis and listening to him talk, he was also close enough to finally tell that the pattern on Regis' shirt was in fact made up out of tiny little leaves. It seemed fitting, he thought.

 

Lunch was brief and uneventful, and afterwards it was time for everyone to return to their rooms in order to get changed for the wedding itself. There were several hours scheduled for that, which Geralt thought seemed a bit redundant until he remembered how long Yen usually took to get ready. He had asked her once why she didn't just use her magic for it all, but that had only earned him a shake of her head and a comment about how he could never hope to understand the importance of a woman taking the time to make herself beautiful.

At least it meant getting to spend some time away from all the people. The silence in their room was a welcome change from the constant chattering of the crowd and Geralt sighed in relief as soon as he closed the door behind them. Regis didn't miss it.

"How are you holding up?" he asked. "I know you prefer solitude to all of this."

"It's fine," Geralt assured. "Just happy to finally have some time to breathe."

Regis nodded and offered a smile. "I understand. And if you ever feel that it becomes too much out there, just tell me and we can step away. No one would mind."

Geralt didn't mean to compare Regis to Yen, he really didn't. But he couldn't help but think that Yen had never said anything like that. Whenever they had gone somewhere she had always expected Geralt to stay by her side in the limelight, no matter how tired and uncomfortable it made him. And now Regis, who clearly enjoyed being surrounded by people almost as much as Yennefer did, was offering to sacrifice it just for Geralt's sake.

"Okay," Geralt said with a nod. It was woefully inadequate, but words had never been a strength of his.

Still, his face must have said enough, because Regis's smile softened further. "Come on then. Time to get changed."

To say that Geralt was happy to take his suit out of its garment bag would have been a downright lie, but reminding himself that he only had to wear it for one night made it a bit more bearable. He turned his back to Regis as he began to change into the slacks and dress shirt, and assumed Regis was doing the same across the room.

Once his trousers were on and his shirt buttoned, Geralt automatically went to reach for his belt before he remembered the suspenders. He turned to grab them, and in doing so his eyes landed on Regis. Or rather, the pale expanse of Regis' back. Unlike his own it was unscarred and perfectly smooth, and Geralt's mind became completely occupied by the wish to cross the room and just _touch_.

He stood there like a complete fool, frozen in place, until Regis shrugged on his own white shirt. It snapped Geralt out of his stupor and he finally picked up the suspenders, turning around again to put them on. Shame made his face burn, because he wasn't supposed to look at Regis that way; They were supposed to be friends and nothing more. And while Regis was stuck pretending to be his partner this weekend, it was all kinds of inappropriate of Geralt to start wanting. It wouldn't be fair.

He did his best to swallow everything he was feeling, but his hands were shaking as he reached for his bowtie. He walked up to one of the mirrors and tried to tie it around his neck, but his memories of the tutorial he had looked at didn't want to surface. Frustrated, he closed his eyes and forced his mind down into the meditative state for a few moments in an attempt to ground himself.

It worked in the sense that he felt calmer and that his hands stilled, but his second attempt at tying the bowtie was just as botched as his first.

"Would you like some help?" Regis asked from across the room. His own bowtie was already neatly in place and Geralt's mind helpfully observed that Regis' white dress shirt fit him perfectly, even though Regis seemed to be adjusting the cuff buttons.

Geralt pushed his thoughts aside. "Help would be good," he admitted.

"It takes some practice in order to get it right. Fortunately, I've had plenty," Regis offered as he crossed the room to stand in front of Geralt, smiling and letting his gaze drop to Geralt's neck. His hands came up to the slip of fabric and deftly started to work it into the correct knot, brushing against Geralt's skin a few times in doing so.

It was hard to breathe steady with Regis so close, touching him and not quite touching him at the same time. The whole thing was over fast, but Geralt almost lost all of his composure when Regis dipped two fingers between his neck and his collar to check that he hadn't made the knot too tight.

Evidently satisfied, Regis straightened the bowtie one last time before looking up to meet Geralt's eye. "There. All done."

Geralt cleared his throat and averting his eyes. As Regis lowered his hands again, something caught Geralt's attention: a flash of silver on his wrists.

"Cufflinks," Geralt said, his brain apparently having forgotten how to form full sentences. He shook his head and tried again. "You're wearing cufflinks."

"I am. For when would it be appropriate to, if not during a wedding?" Regis asked, twisting one of the little discs between his fingertips. The shape of a snake curled around the edge it, catching its own tail. Regis still hadn't backed away.

"Guess I should've thought of that," Geralt said, feeling a bit stupid. He had a pair at home somewhere, he believed. Not that it did him much good now.

Regis cleared his throat and looked to the side. "Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous," he began, and stepped over to his suitcase. "Overstepping, most likely, but I did suspect this particular thing might slip your mind."

Regis turned to smile at Geralt over his shoulder, and he looked . . . almost shy before he turned back around to take something from his belongings. Geralt heard a muted rustle of fabric and then the soft clinking of metal. "Over my many years I've collected far more things than I need," Regis explained as he walked back to Geralt, who still hadn't moved a muscle. Regis held out his hand to show another pair of cufflinks resting in his palm, made from silver with a white and slightly shimmering stone set into each of them. "I'd like you to have these."

Geralt couldn't do much else but stare at the trinkets. They looked well-made and expensive, and not at all like Regis would have had them lying around for ages. "I can't take this," he protested, shaking his head. "Besides, it's not like I'll ever have the chance to wear them again after tonight."

"And I have no need for them," Regis pointed out gently. "I want to give them to you." He reached for Geralt's wrist and worked the cufflink into place, before moving on to the other side.

"Why are you like this?" Geralt asked without thinking after Regis had dropped his hand.

Regis didn't meet his eyes, but something about his face became guarded. "Like what?"

Geralt instantly felt bad as he understood the words had not landed as he had intended them to. "I don't know, just— Generous. Sweet."

The guarded look vanished and was replaced by a chuckle. "I don't believe I've ever been described as 'sweet' before, certainly not by a witcher."

"Yeah, yeah, don't let it go to your head," Geralt muttered, thankful his mutations kept him from blushing. He cleared his throat and raised his hand to inspect the new adornment on his wrist. "Thank you, for these. You really didn't need to."

"But I wanted to, as I said. They suit you better, anyway."

"What stone is it?" Geralt asked, turning his wrist over and watching how the stone shimmered.

"Hm, I don't know," Regis admitted, before he finally stepped away and returned to his bags.

"Come on," Geralt scoffed, "not like you to just settle for not knowing something." He shook his head and pulled his hair free from its ponytail, brushing through it before tying it back anew.

"A correct observation, though in this case I'm afraid I must disappoint."

Geralt shrugged. "Can't know everything, I guess."

Realising he couldn't put it off for much longer, he took his suit jacket out of its bag and donned it. At least folding a pocket square was easier than tying a bowtie, and he managed that without Regis' help. Once he was done he looked himself in the mirror, glaring at his reflection.

"Still don't get why people wear this willingly," he muttered, tugging at his clothes. The dark suit fit him, but he didn't like how he looked in it or how it felt. It was too stiff, too constricted, and it made him look like he was pretending to be someone he wasn't. He was a simple man, and no amount of formal wear was going to make anyone believe otherwise; on the contrary, it made it even more evident that he didn't belong in a place like this.

"For what it's worth, I think you look very handsome," Regis said from across the room.

Geralt's frown deepened as he kept trying to adjust the jacket. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"Believe me, I am not." Something in Regis' voice made Geralt turn to look at him, and as he did he forgot what he had been about to say.

Regis had put on his own suit jacket as well, and he looked _good_. Almost painfully so. The jet black fabric fit him just right and unlike Geralt, he held himself with complete ease. It didn't come as a surprise, because Regis always dressed well, but Geralt still found it hard to tear his eyes away.

Slowly, Regis crossed the room again, and put his hand on Geralt's arm. Geralt didn't know if he was thankful for the layers of fabric between them, or if he wished they were gone.

"I know you don't like wearing all this," Regis said softly. "But I am completely honest when I say it looks very good on you. If you hadn't asked me to be here I daresay you would have had plenty of people vying for your attention tonight. You still might, most likely."

Geralt's lips twitched. "If I hadn't asked you to be here I wouldn't have been able to get the damn bowtie on."

"I suppose you have a point," Regis said, his eyes glinting. He let his hand fall from Geralt's arm.

Geralt cleared his throat. "You, uh, don't look too bad yourself either. Not bad at all." It was a vast understatement, but he had never been good with words. Besides, he didn't trust himself not to blurt out anything embarrassing.

Regis chuckled. "Thank you, Geralt. Now, shall we go back downstairs? I do so wonder if Dandelion has managed to stay amongst the living."

"Don't underestimate him. He's come out of worse situations."

Geralt felt some of the tension slip away as they walked downstairs and resumed their usual, easy banter. Regis never looked any less gorgeous, but it was no longer the sole thing that Geralt could focus on. They rejoined the other guests in the gardens, though the crowd was thinner now while many people were still in their rooms getting ready. Dandelion was nowhere to be seen, but whether that was because he had suffered the consequences of his actions or because he was still curling his hair remained unknown.

As time ticked on, more and more people returned to the gardens, all dressed to the nines. To Geralt's great disappointment they were expected to mingle again. It seemed pretty unrealistic to have so much mingling planned, he thought. How much could people really have to talk about over the course of a weekend? Did no one else run out of topics after five minutes?

Thankfully, Regis was still happy to carry on a conversation with just about anyone, and no one seemed to mind that Geralt stood mostly silent. Despite not saying much and not really offering anything interesting, Geralt felt surprisingly comfortable. It might have had something to do with what Regis had said earlier about leaving being an option whenever he wanted, but it was probably also because Regis didn't try to show him off; When he had been with Yen he had often felt like he was there as arm candy, and that he wasn't expected to do anything but stand there. Now whenever he did speak, Regis immediately shifted his attention to him, looking up at him with those black eyes.

As the thought hit him, Geralt realised his mistake. He had told himself that he wasn't going to compare Regis and Yennefer, yet here he was. He needed to clear his head.

He called for Regis' attention by brushing his hand against Regis' arm. "Gonna go get something to drink," he said quietly, not caring much about what the people they were talking with would think. "Want anything?"

"I'm good, thank you," Regis told him. His eyes searched Geralt's face for any sign that he wanted them to pull away for a moment, but Geralt gave him a reassuring smile. There was no reason for Regis to worry.

He managed to sort out his thoughts a bit as he made his way to the refreshment table. There was no need for him to keep comparing the man he was pretending to date to the woman he used to be together with, and while he had never stopped being aware of that, stepping away from Regis for a few moments helped his mind to actually push the thoughts away.

Drink in hand, Geralt began walking back to Regis, a bit more confident that his mind wasn't going to slip again for a while. He came to a halt, however, as he spotted Regis through the crowd. Regis looked happy and comfortable, carrying himself with ease as he chatted with the other guests. People came and went around him, but few could resist his natural charisma and most stopped to talk with him for at least a little while.

As he watched, it struck Geralt just how damn different the two of them were. He had always known it, of course, but usually it didn't matter. But right now, as he watched Regis be the center of attention and enjoy himself, their differences chafed. Geralt knew that when he returned to Regis he would just stand there like a dead weight, an awkward presence because he wouldn't have a thing to say. He would make those around him feel almost as uncomfortable as himself, and it would bleed over on Regis.

Regis didn't need that. Didn't deserve it.

There was a tree not far from where Geralt was standing, and he chose to go over there instead of going back to Regis and ruining things. He leaned back against the trunk and did his best to seem unassuming and discreet, but just as always he felt as though he stuck out like a sore thumb. He let his eyes drift over the crowd, searching for Dandelion or Ciri perhaps, but his gaze just kept drifting back to Regis and he felt like shit.

He didn't know for how long he stood there, but after a while his glass was empty and his eyes found nothing when they searched the spot where Regis had been standing. Part of him resigned to the fact that Regishad likely found other people to talk with, and that it was a good thing that he was enjoying himself. But mostly he grew anxious, because he had no idea what he was going to do with the rest of the day if Regis wasn't next to him.

It was probably proof of how much of a mess his head was that he didn't notice someone approaching him until he felt a hand on his arm. Startled, he turned and met worried, black eyes.

"Are you alright?" Regis asked softly, gently brushing his hand up and down Geralt's arm.

"Yeah," Geralt said, and it was only half a lie; he felt a bit better now with Regis close. More grounded.

"I told you we could step away if you needed to," Regis murmured, the worry not leaving his voice. "I meant that, and still do."

Geralt reached up to cover Regis' hand with his own, holding it in place. He couldn't meet Regis' eyes, though. "I know," he sighed. "Just— You seem so in your element here. Didn't wanna disturb that. You'd have a better time without me."

"That is simply not the truth." Regis cupped his face, forcing Geralt to look him in the eye. For once, Regis didn't say anything more. Instead he held Geralt's gaze for several seconds, letting something raw and sincere in his silence carry the message across instead. He dropped his hand then and averted his eyes. When he next spoke his voice was quiet and careful. "We can stay here or we can go someplace else. But unless you truly wish to be alone, I will not leave your side."

Geralt's heart ached. He had done nothing to deserve a friend like Regis, but he didn't doubt that the vampire meant every word he said. Geralt closed his eyes, squeezing Regis' hand before he opened them again. "Thanks," he sighed, hoping his voice conveyed enough of what he felt. "Think . . . Think we could stay right here for a few minutes? Don't wanna go back into the thick of it just yet."

Regis finally smiled. "Of course."

He came to lean back against the tree right next to Geralt, and wrapped his arm around Geralt's shoulders to keep them close. It felt safe, and Geralt wanted to believe that Regis did it simply because he wanted to, and not just because of what they were pretending to be.

 

When the time finally rolled around for the wedding ceremony, Geralt felt like he was back to his usual self. He still despised the formalwear and the intricate social codes, but he didn't feel like he was going to fall apart anymore. He wanted to see Yen get married, wanted to see Ciri be a bridesmaid, and for that he was willing to put up with the rest.

To no one's surprise, Yen was beautiful. Geralt didn't know much about dresses, but he knew enough to guess that almost every woman in the crowd must have been jealous of the gown she wore. And as much of a rabble rouser and wild spirit as Ciri was, she could carry herself just like her mother when she wanted to. She looked so proud to be there and Geralt knew that he would have never forgiven himself if he had screwed up and missed this moment.

Ciri found him not long after the ceremony was over, and the pride and happiness still clung to her.

"Are you crying?" she asked instead of greeting him.

He wasn't. A little teary-eyed, maybe, but he wasn't crying. He pulled Ciri into a tight hug. "Just starting to realise you're growing up, is all," he said into her hair.

"It's alright," she told him, hugging him back just as hard. "I think a lot of people are supposed to cry at weddings, I'm sure no one will arrest you for it."

Geralt chuckled and pulled back, putting his hand on Ciri's shoulders. "If they try, I've got you to keep me safe, right?"

"You know it," Ciri said. Her eyes drifted to the side then. "And Regis too."

Geralt followed her gaze and Regis met him with a fond smile. Geralt nodded. "Yeah. Regis too."

Ciri surprised him then by pulling Regis into a hug as well. Judging by how Regis' eyes went wide before he carefully patted Ciri's back, he hadn't expected it either. As Ciri let him go, Regis' reached for Geralt's hand.

"It's lovely, isn't it?" Ciri said, looking around them. Geralt didn't know whether she meant the ceremony, the decorations, or the whole event in general, but he didn't get the chance to ask before Ciri kept speaking. "Do you think you two will ever get married?"

Very gracefully, Geralt almost choked on his own spit.

Next to him, Regis cleared his throat. "It's not something we've talked about."

"We haven't been together that long," Geralt explained nearly at the same time.

Ciri had the decency to blush. "Sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"It's alright," Regis assured. "During an event such as this it's not a strange question to ask."

"Still," Ciri mumbled. She looked to be feeling awkward for a total of two seconds before her eyes lit up with new excitement. "Have you been to the photo booth yet?" she asked.

Geralt shook his head. "You took a bunch of pictures this morning. We really need more?"

Ciri rolled her eyes. "Those were for the guest book. But there's a photo booth too, where you can take your own pictures to keep. Come on." Before Geralt could protest further she was dragging him through the crowd, with Regis tagging along after him.

Finally they reached a corner where said photo booth had been set up. Some sample pictures decorated the instruction sheet, and they all depicted couples kissing. Something nervous started to twist in Geralt's gut.

"Ciri, we really don't need to—"

"Of course you do!" Ciri interrupted as she fiddled with the position of the camera, making sure it was high enough to get Geralt and Regis in frame. "You'll regret it if you don't. Just kiss and press the button, it's not hard."

"Ciri—"

"It's only a picture," Regis said, causing Geralt's attention to snap to him. He searched Regis' face for anything, the same nervousness that he felt perhaps, but Regis just looked calm. Did he not understand that a serious kiss was what was expected, not the innocent ones they had shared before?

There was a rustle as Ciri pulled the curtains closed around them. "I'll just . . . be over there," she said with a grin before shutting the curtains completely.

The air inside the small booth suddenly became very heavy.

Geralt was aware of just how close Regis was standing, could feel him breathing, could smell the scent of wormwood and basil all around him.

"You sure about this?" Geralt asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Of course," Regis said, then narrowed his eyes at the camera. "Though I'm not certain I'm in the frame." There was a mirror right beneath the lens, but only Geralt's reflection looked back at them.

"Suppose we'll have to guess."

"Indeed," Regis agreed, then turned his head to look at Geralt. "Now, shall we?"

Geralt nodded, hoping his heart rate wasn't giving him away. He placed his hand by the camera button, then met Regis' eyes.

It had been a long time since he kissed anyone, and even longer still since he had done it sober and without the intent of getting laid soon after. He found himself uncertain of who should take the lead.

Regis seemed to sense his hesitation and gave him a reassuring smile before reaching up to cup the back of Geralt's head. His gaze dropped then, landing on Geralt's mouth. It made Geralt lick his lips and swallow, the nervous feeling in his gut beginning to mix with anticipation. Regis chuckled softly and leaned in, guiding Geralt down to meet him. Geralt let his eyes close and soon he felt lips press against his own.

The way Regis kissed was determined, yet never demanding; he kissed like he knew what he wanted but would never take it unless it was given to him. It was also soft and gentle, addictive and intoxicating, but most of all it was frustratingly _good_.

When Geralt's breath hitched and his lips parted, he felt a hint of Regis' sharp teeth and lost track of time.

He couldn't have said how long they stood there. All he knew was that an inappropriately long time passed before he remembered that they were just supposed to be friends and that they were doing this to get a damn picture. He pushed the button, and the noise from the camera was deafening in the little space they had made for themselves. With a harsh flash of light, the moment was over.

Regis stilled against Geralt's lips before pulling back and letting his hand fall from Geralt's head. As he exhaled, Geralt felt his breath against his skin. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Geralt blinked, trying to find his voice. He realised his hand had settled on Regis' waist at some point and let go. "No," he said, clearing his throat. He didn't dare to look Regis in the eye. "No, it was—"

The soft mechanical chirring interrupted him, and he took the picture as the camera printed it. It was still white and undeveloped.

"Guess I'll hold on to this?" Geralt asked.

Regis nodded. "Ciri might wish to see it."

Geralt slipped the picture into the inside pocket of his suit jacket without looking at it. He hoped his head would stop spinning soon.

He exhaled and reached for the curtains, but Regis' hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Wait," he said. His hands came up to Geralt's bowtie. He adjusted it until he was satisfied, then gave a small smile before letting his hands drop. "There. Let's go."

 

This round of mingling was blissfully shorter than the others, and soon all the guests were called to dinner. This time there was no random seating and Geralt and Regis got to sit next to each other. Geralt was happy that this meant he didn't have to talk too much with strangers, but being close to Regis had now begun to bring with it a new kind of torture.

Geralt knew now what kissing Regis was like and he couldn't stop thinking about it.

He wanted nothing more than just pull Regis close and press their lips together again, but he knew he couldn't do it. Regis had kissed him for their cover, for gods' sake, for a damn photo. It wasn't his fault that he was a good enough kisser to drive Geralt mad with wanting more. The photo in question burned inside his pocket, but Geralt didn’t dare to look at it.

A small mercy was that Dandelion had been seated nearby this time as well, and his constant talking brought with it a sense of normalcy which helped Geralt forget the stupid situation he had landed himself in, if only for a little bit. By the time the toasts started he was more or less able to focus on what was being said.

As expected, there was a lot of talk about love and care and commitment, and while Geralt barely knew half the people who spoke he had to admit it was kind of sweet. A romantic wasn't something he would describe himself as, but he did want what the speeches mentioned. He wanted someone to share his life with.

Ciri's earlier question if he and Regis would ever get married surfaced in Geralt's mind and he forcefully shoved it down. Even as much as entertaining the thought of what it would be like was foolish.

Once the plates were empty and the toasts were over, everyone was urged to go outside. The sun was casting everything in a warm glow as it started to set, and soft notes began to fill the summer air. Without being told to, all guests spread out in a large circle around the patio, leaving the dancefloor empty. Soon, Yennefer and Istredd stepped into the empty space and the music grew to something with more purpose as the newlyweds began to dance.

Geralt felt Regis wrap an arm around him, resting his chin on Geralt's shoulder. They were far from the only couple to stand so close and Geralt figured he might as well wrap his arm around Regis too. He probably shouldn't indulge in the contact, shouldn't mess his head up even more, but _fuck it_.

"Any regrets?" Regis murmured, his breath tickling the side of Geralt's neck.

It took Geralt a moment to understand what Regis meant. Once he did, he shook his head. "None," he replied, just as quietly. "She'd never have been that happy with me."

Next to him, Regis sighed. "Someone will. One day someone will be very happy with you, Geralt."

Geralt didn't know what to say to that, so he just stood quiet as they watched Yen and Istredd continue to dance.

The first dance didn't last forever, and once the music drifted into a new song more people started to step onto the dance floor. Geralt made no move to follow.

"What do you think?" Regis asked, his voice still close enough to send a shiver up Geralt's spine. "Shall we?"

Geralt shook his head. "Don't exactly dance."

"Whyever not?"

"Don't know how to. Too many complicated steps that I never bothered to learn."

Regis chuckled. "And that differs from fighting with a sword how?"

"Fighting is instinctive, not something fixed," Geralt explained.

Regis let go of him enough to move from standing by his side, to standing in front of him. "Dancing is less fixed than you believe, my friend. Simply let me lead, and let your instincts tell you where to follow."

Before Geralt knew it, Regis had placed their hands where the dance required and was pulling him away from the crowd and onto the dancefloor. The beat was mercifully slow, but Geralt still didn't know where he was supposed to put his feet.

"Just relax and follow me," Regis murmured.

Geralt envied how damn _calm_ Regis was about all of this. Not once had he seemed bothered by the intimacy they had agreed on. Maybe vampires were just different in that regard, Geralt thought, recalling that Regis had mentioned something about it once. Or maybe Geralt's presence just didn't affect him at all.

He took a deep breath and did his best to do as Regis said, trying to feel in which direction Regis' bodyweight was pulling him and trying to step in time with the music. It took some time, but eventually he could at least stop worrying about stumbling and stepping on Regis' feet.

He almost did it anyway when Regis pulled him even closer, keeping their chests pressed together as he leaned against Geralt's shoulder.

"Is this so horrible?" Regis asked, his lips almost brushing against Geralt's jaw as he spoke.

Geralt swallowed. It was horrible, in a way, a very special kind of torture to let himself think even for a moment that he could have something like this. But at the same time it felt so very good, and so comforting, to just be this close.

"It's not," Geralt murmured. He wanted to turn his head just enough to press his lips against Regis'.

He probably could have done it, even. Given how willing Regis had been to keep up their little charade he probably wouldn't have protested. And no one around them would have batted an eye. But if he kissed Regis now they would have to talk about it later and he wouldn't be able to hide anything.

So instead he just closed his eyes and leaned his head slightly against Regis', smelling cinnamon and thyme. While the song lasted, he felt content.

 

The celebrations lasted for several hours after that, though Geralt wasn't sure how he spent them all. At one point, Ciri demanded he danced with her and he couldn't say no—though he spent the entire dance worried he would disappoint her. Thankfully she seemed happy enough, even if she had to take it upon herself to decide when she would spin around in pirouettes.

For the rest of the evening, Geralt just recalled being by Regis' side, enjoying himself more than he thought he would. After their dance together, the constant urge of wanting to kiss him had settled a bit. It was still there, smoldering in the back of Geralt's mind, but it didn't burn under his skin every time Regis touched him. Instead, he just felt at ease listening to Regis talk and entrance the other wedding guests with his wits and charm.

Eventually the night started coming to a close, however, and people slowly began retiring to their rooms. While Geralt had actually had a surprisingly good time, he was tired at the same time, and didn't object when Regis suggested they should go back upstairs as well.

As they were standing in the hallway outside their room and Geralt was searching his pockets for the key, he felt Regis sneak an arm around him and press close to his side. Geralt relaxed into the touch until he realised that he couldn't hear anyone else in the hallway around them. He looked up, only to confirm that they were indeed alone.

"Regis?" he said, putting the key into the lock but not twisting it just yet.

"Yes?"

"There's no one else around."

"I know."

So why was he still holding on to him like that? Trying to push it all out of his mind, Geralt swallowed and got the door open. Regis let him go so that they could both walk inside and for a moment, Geralt was sure that was the end of it.

Except once Geralt had closed the door behind him, Regis turned back around. In a flash, he was standing close, almost crowding Geralt against the door. His eyes were wide and uncertain, and he looked surprised by his own actions.

Geralt opened his mouth to speak, to ask what was wrong, but nothing came. But evidently his face said enough.

"I—" Regis began, then paused to reach for one of Geralt's hands with both of his own. He sighed and closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he looked down at their joined hands. "I have been trying to get your attention," he admitted finally, his voice not quite as steady as it usually was. "But I realise it may have been foolish of me to do so while you were of the understanding that my actions were solely the result of the part I agreed to play. You could argue it was wrong, even, since you consented without knowing the full extent of my motivations."

Geralt stood silent, trying to make sense of what Regis was saying. All he could do was give Regis' hands a little squeeze.

"Regardless of my poor choice of method," Regis continued, still not meeting his gaze, "I would like to be so bold as to make an assumption; I suspect I might not be as alone in my desire as I had initially feared, and perhaps—"

"Regis," Geralt finally managed, his voice a bit breathless as his head spun. Regis finally looked up, and he looked even more uncertain than he had a moment ago. Whether born from a moment of bravery or from a need to keep himself grounded, Geralt brought his free hand up to rest high on Regis' shoulder, his thumb almost brushing his neck. "Stop trying to explain and just tell me what you want."

Regis' gaze was unsteady, and it seemed both hopeful and afraid at the same time. He swallowed, and then managed to meet Geralt's eyes as he spoke:

"You."

Geralt blinked. Once he had processed the fact that his ears had not deceived him, he let his hand move from Regis' shoulder to his neck, to the back of his head. The memory of the kiss from before kept playing over and over in his mind, urging him to lean in and pull Regis close to meet him.

As their lips touched, it was as if something broke free within Regis. Gone was the uncertainty as he dropped Geralt's hand to instead grab at the lapels of his jacket, pushing him back against the door and kissing him with purpose. Geralt gasped in surprise, and Regis took advantage of that in the best way possible.

It wasn't long before Regis was tugging at Geralt's bowtie, getting it loose and then proceeding to unbutton the top of Geralt's shirt. He began trailing his kisses lower then, following along Geralt's jaw and neck.

Geralt could only hold on. "Thought you, ah, liked formal wear," he managed to say, his fingers tightening in Regis' hair as the vampire nipped and kissed at his bared skin.

"I do," Regis told him in between kisses. "But there are some circumstances in which I'd rather have it off."

Geralt was going to answer, but when Regis pushed their hips together he lost all traces of coherent thought.

They made their way to the bed eventually, leaving a trail of discarded clothes as they went. It was wonderful, and such a damn relief, to not just be wanting but to actually do something about it. Geralt suspected Regis felt no different, if the way he kept kissing and touching wherever he could reach was anything to go on.

For the most part, Geralt just tried to focus on _feeling_ , but there was one question that kept pulling at his mind. As Regis was pinning him down on the bed, he gave in.

"Gotta ask," he panted as Regis pulled away just a little in order to let him breathe. "How— How long have you wanted this?"

Regis seemed to sober a little, and his kisses went from passionate to gentle. "A while," he murmured against Geralt's skin. "If I am to be completely honest, I didn't agree to come here for completely altruistic reasons. I . . . wanted a chance to be close to you. And I hoped I might even seduce you." He pulled back enough that he could look Geralt in the eye, and seemed to wait for a reaction.

Geralt could only chuckle fondly as he reached up to brush his fingers through Regis' hair. "Well," he said with a grin, his eyes flickering down. "You're between my legs and I'm naked. Consider me seduced."

"Hm, I won't argue with that," Regis told him, before he kissed him again and proceeded to move in ways that made Geralt see stars.

 

Afterwards, they lay close together facing each other, their legs tangled beneath the covers. Regis looked more relaxed than Geralt had ever seen him and it made something warm blossom within his chest. Now that there was nothing stopping him, he leaned in to press a gentle kiss against Regis' lips.

Regis let out a happy little sigh and reached up to brush his fingers through the hair at Geralt's temple. Geralt didn't know for how long he kept doing it, because after barely a minute he had already fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go! I hope you like it! <3
> 
> Because I can't for the life of me get the embed image to work, please look at the artwork on Meru's [twitter](https://twitter.com/merulanoir/status/1137662712274661376?s=19) instead!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up next to Regis was something he very much wanted to do again. And again and again and again. He liked Regis so damn much and just looking at him made Geralt feel warm and content. It was a feeling he remembered from many, many years ago: He was falling in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's the final chapter! There is a little bit of angst in this one because I'm mean like that, but I promise there's a happy ending!
> 
> As always, huge thanks to [Merulanoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merulanoir/pseuds/merulanoir) for being awesome both as a beta and just in general!

Geralt woke up before Regis. They still lay much like they had done when they fell asleep; facing each other, legs tangled. Geralt didn't have to reach far in order to brush his fingers down Regis' arm.

He smiled to himself. Waking up next to Regis was something he very much wanted to do again. And again and again and again. He liked Regis so damn much and just looking at him made Geralt feel warm and content. It was a feeling he remembered from many, many years ago: He was falling in love.

To think that only two days ago he had worried about having to tell Ciri about him and Regis eventually breaking up, and now it seemed he wouldn't have to. Geralt smiled wider and was about to lean in and wake Regis up with a kiss when it hit him that he was getting ahead of himself.

Not once had Regis said he wanted a relationship. There had been talk of desire, of seduction, but never of feelings. "My friend" was what Regis kept calling him—and for vampires, what was a bit of sex between friends?

Something unpleasant settled in Geralt's gut as he realised he had most likely misinterpreted things.

There was a saying that witchers were stripped of their emotions as a result of their mutations. It was a useful lie, but it did have some truth to it, as young witchers were trained to control their feelings and keep them in check. Sometimes you had to make a terrible choice in order to save people or break a curse, and in those cases emotions just got in the way.

Geralt used that training now, pulling his hand back and shoving his budding feelings for Regis deep into himself, forcing them to slumber. He would have to disappoint Regis if the vampire wanted to continue what they had started, because he knew that if he let himself give in again he would not be able to keep the walls up.

Regis stirred then, blinking awake and giving Geralt a lazy smile. "Good morning," he said, raising his hand to caress Geralt's cheek.

Geralt froze as his feelings almost broke through the barriers in his mind. He clenched his jaw. "Morning." His voice sounded cold and distant and he hated it.

Regis' fingers stilled against his skin and his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "What's the matter?"

"I don't think we want the same thing," Geralt explained flatly.

"Oh," Regis said, drawing his hand back. He sounded more disappointed than he had any right to.

Geralt sat up, turning his back to Regis. He couldn't stand to watch that crestfallen look; it just made his feelings that much harder to keep at bay.

Behind him, Regis sighed. "I'm sorry. It appears I have misunderstood things terribly."

"You and me both," Geralt muttered, then stood. "Gonna go take a shower."

As the hot water ran down his skin, the walls in his head fell for a while. Why the  _ fuck _ had he let himself think Regis wanted him? His eyes burned with unshed tears, and he wished so badly he could take last night back. Knowing what it felt like to hold Regis so close, to have him inside, was awful when he also knew it would never happen again. It would have been better if he had never acted on what he felt, because it would never have hurt this much.

He heard sobs and guessed they must be his own. They sounded distant and made him wonder how far into his own head he had crawled.

It was a good thing he healed fast, he thought a few minutes later as he saw himself in the mirror. It would have hurt too much if he had still been able to see all the little marks and lovebites Regis had given him the night before.

He didn't look at Regis when he exited the bathroom and Regis didn't look at him. It was probably for the best.

He got dressed while Regis showered, and then proceeded to pick up all the clothes he had shed on the floor last night, stuffing them away in his bags. The cufflinks with the white stones he snuck into Regis' suitcase; Regis may have said he had no need for them himself, but Geralt didn't particularly want them anymore.

Neither of them spoke until Regis had packed his bags and gotten dressed as well. He had forgone the cardigan today, Geralt couldn't help but notice, and replaced it with a soft-looking black sweater.

It was Geralt who finally broke the silence. "Ready to go downstairs? There's brunch and then saying goodbye to people, but Yen and Istredd left last night so we can go back whenever." He was proud to say his voice stayed steady.

"I don't feel the need to stay very long," Regis told him quietly. He looked up from his suitcase, but didn't look at Geralt. "Let's go."

The easy way they had coexisted yesterday was gone, replaced by stiff silences and both of them freezing up whenever they happened to brush against each other. Quiet moments with Regis had always been comfortable, but now they just hurt. Geralt wished Regis would return to his usual talkative self soon, because at least that would make him feel less like he had screwed things up for good. 

Eating didn't take much time. The food didn't taste like anything and each bite settled heavily in Geralt's belly. He just wanted to go home and be miserable where no one could see him.

And home they went. The car ride was just as silent and uncomfortable as the morning had been. Geralt had never thought spending time with Regis could be exhausting, but when he dropped Regis off at his apartment building his entire body sagged in relief.

When Geralt finally came home, he dropped his bags on the floor and fell onto his bed. There, he dropped the walls around his emotions and let himself hurt.

 

***

 

On Monday, Regis came into work to restock Geralt's herb supplies, but he didn't hang around the breakroom like he usually did. Perhaps it was for the best. The others seemed a bit confused, but didn't press the subject. In fact, they all left Geralt mostly alone and didn't talk to him much at all—save for Dandelion, who kept trying to cheer him up to no avail.

Geralt knew he was moping, but he didn't give a shit. As long as he could still do his job it was fine.

He did feel a bit guilty, however, when he returned home that day and was greeted by Ciri. He had completely forgotten she was living at his place this week. She hugged him as he stepped through the door, and for a few seconds he just stood there, completely dazed before he brought his arms up to hug her back.

He must have squeezed her a bit tighter than he meant to, because when she pulled back she looked worried. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah. Bit tired, that's all," Geralt lied. "Did you get home alright yesterday?"

Ciri nodded, stepping aside to let him get into the apartment properly. "I did. I didn't see you and Regis though."

"We left early. Regis needed to get home," Geralt replied. Another lie, but at least his voice stayed steady. He tried to change the subject. "Wanna order take-out and watch some bad movie?"

"Sounds good to me," Ciri said. Geralt should have known that wasn't the end of it. "You can ask Regis to come over too, if you want. I really don't mind."

Geralt sighed, taking off his jacket. "He's busy tonight. But thanks."

"I didn't get to say this the other day," Ciri went on, "but I'm really happy you've found someone. Now you won't be that lonely when I move away."

She couldn't have known, of course, but her words made Geralt's heart ache. He felt his throat go tight, and to hide it he pulled her into another hug.

"Are you certain you're alright?" Ciri asked, hugging him back.

Geralt took a deep breath, the familiar scent of Ciri's shampoo filling his nose. "Yeah. Just thinking about you leaving. Gonna be empty here without you." It was true, even if it wasn't what hurt him the most right now.

"Come on," Ciri said, and Geralt could hear her smile. "I live with mamma half the time anyway. You'll be fine. And like I said, you have Regis now too."

"Yeah," Geralt said, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat.

The rest of the evening went by a little easier, as they ate together and watched some historical movie. Ciri kept pointing out how the actors held their swords wrong or fought in unrealistic ways, and Geralt felt a surge of pride and fondness. No matter how much he had fucked things up with Regis, he still had his daughter, his family. It wasn't the same, but he wasn't alone, either.

 

***

 

Regis kept up the same pattern for the rest of the week, and Geralt did nothing to change it. The few conversations he had with Regis were spent trying to keep his feelings in check and not doing anything stupid. He would heal in time, he knew that, as long as he didn't touch the wound  too much. It itched though, and every time he thought it had scabbed over he found himself picking at it until it was raw again.

Geralt was so far gone.

He didn't even know when it had started. He had realised it after they slept together, but he was slowly figuring out that it had been building up for far longer than that. Regis had been the person whose company he enjoyed the most for quite some time.

He wished he had understood it sooner. He wished he could have asked Regis out normally, gotten a polite rejection, hurt a bit and then moved on. It would have been better than what he was feeling now.

Back when he realised he needed to break things off with Yen, he had been angry. Both at himself for trying to keep a failing relationship alive and at her for only wanting the parts of him she liked. He had been angry, but he had resigned himself to the fact that they needed to go separate ways, and it hadn't hurt that much.

Right now, he wasn't angry at all. He was just hurt and disappointed, but none of it was directed at Regis. It wasn't Regis' fault that Geralt had fallen for him. More than anything, Geralt just wanted to stop hurting enough that he and Regis could be friends again. He missed him.

 

It got worse when he finally bothered to unpack after the weekend. He was taking his suit out of its garment bag to let it air out before storing it again for an indefinite period of time, and he noticed something stiff in the chest area of the jacket.

Geralt reached into the inside pocket and found a square little sheet of thin plastic. An instant photo.

Despite his better judgement, he flipped it over, looking at the picture for the first time.

He could take it for about two seconds before he had to put it away, face down.

 

***

 

It was Friday afternoon when Milva pulled him aside, quite forcefully. Geralt had just come back from a job and he was bruised and tired, blood and ichor splattered across his face and clothes. She didn't seem to care.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" she demanded.

Geralt shook his head, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Milva scoffed. "Don't play dumb. I spoke to Regis. Since you were out when he got here he didn't run away again first chance he got."

"What'd he say?" Geralt asked, something heavy twisting in his gut.

"He said enough." Milva crossed her arms. "I thought you liked him. We all did."

"I do!" Geralt hissed. "That's the problem!"

"You're not making any sense," Milva accused, shoving his shoulder. He swayed a little, mostly from the surprise of it.

"Neither are you."

"You broke his heart!" Milva shoved him again, and this time Geralt stumbled back into the wall.

" _ What? _ " He couldn't even tell what he was feeling underneath the shock. His ears were ringing faintly.

Disbelief settled on Milva's face, though her expression was softer than it had been a moment ago. "You didn't know. How could you not know?"

"Milva—"

"Go get cleaned up," she interrupted. "Then go to him. You need to  _ talk _ , this time."

 

Milva's tone left no room for arguing, and some time later Geralt was standing outside Regis' apartment, finger hovering over the doorbell. He still didn't know what he was feeling. Hope, maybe? Disbelief, fear? All he knew was that he was nervous as hell.

The last time he had been here, it had been to pick Regis up for the wedding. He tried not to think about it, and finally pressed the doorbell.

A minute of agonising silence passed. Then he heard steps from the other side of the door, the lock clicked, and the door opened.

Regis' face was blank. "Geralt. Hello."

Geralt thought he would break then and there. But he forced himself to keep it together. Milva had been right; he needed to  _ know _ , not assume. He cleared his throat. "Hi. Can I come in? Think we should talk."

Regis glanced away, swallowing. "I'd rather we didn't."

The words came as no surprise, but they hurt nonetheless. There was something defeated in the way Regis held himself, and Milva's words played back in Geralt's head. This was all his fault and he needed to fix it.

"Please, Regis," he begged, not caring what his voice might give away.

Regis regarded him for a moment, then nodded and stepped aside. "Fine. If you must."

Geralt didn't really know what to do with himself, or what he was welcome to, so he just kind of ended up standing awkwardly in Regis' living room.

"What did you want to talk about?" Regis was fiddling with the buttons on his shirt cuffs, and not looking at Geralt.

Geralt took a deep breath. "Do you remember what I said first thing Sunday morning?" he asked.

Regis scoffed. "Of course. You said we didn't want the same thing. But must you bring it up? It's rather insensitive."

Geralt winced at the broken edge to Regis' words. "I said that because I thought you just wanted something casual," he tried to explain.

Regis chuckled, but it wasn't happy. "You think what I feel about you is casual?"

"Isn't it?"

"No."

A silence followed, and Regis looked uncomfortable with his own honesty. He still refused to meet Geralt's eyes.

Geralt finally spoke again. "Milva . . . Milva said I broke your heart."

"Milva meddles where she shouldn't," Regis muttered.

"Did I?" Geralt pressed. He had to know.

Regis was silent for a while, wrapping his arms around himself. "Yes," he admitted quietly. "Yes, you did, and you're doing it all over again by coming here and bringing it up when I've been trying to forget."

"I never meant to," Geralt said, taking a tentative step closer. They were still so far apart.

Regis finally looked at him, hurt and accusing. "Then why did you sleep with me?"

"Because I wanted you and you wanted me. And in the morning I thought it had just been physical for you, but for me it wasn't. I should have asked, I know, but I got scared and screwed it up." Geralt dragged a hand across his face and let out a shaky breath. "I'm so sorry."

"What did you want from it then? If it wasn't just physical?" Regis asked, clenching his jaw.

"I wanted last weekend to not be pretend. I still want that," Geralt told him. He thought he saw Regis' eyes widen. "But I know I hurt you and I get it if you don't—"

"Geralt," Regis interrupted and stepped closer. Both of them looked down, surprised to see that their hands were touching. "There is nothing I want more than that. Just promise me you won't ever make such an assumption again."

"I promise," Geralt said, without hesitation.

Regis smiled. It was scared yet hopeful, but had been almost a week since Geralt had seen anything like it and it was a beautiful thing. Slowly, carefully, he reached up to cup Regis' face, brushing his thumb against that smile.

Regis didn't pull away. Instead he smiled wider, some of the fear fading from him. "I can't believe you didn't realise how I feel about you," he said. "I thought I'd been rather blunt."

"You have?" Geralt wondered, but unable to keep himself from smiling as well; he hadn't broken things beyond repair.

"I told you I had been interested in you for months, didn’t I?"

"Wait, you meant that?" Geralt asked, disbelieving.

Regis rolled his eyes, squeezing Geralt's hand. "I care for you very deeply, Geralt, don't get me wrong, but you're not always very perceptive."

"Hey," Geralt said without heat. He sighed then, wishing he had allowed himself to read more into Regis' words before. Maybe that would have spared them both some pain. "Anything else you were honest about without me realising?"

"Almost everything," Regis hummed, then looked away. "Though there was one thing I did lie about."

"What was it?"

Regis sighed. "The cufflinks I gave you. I didn't have them lying around; I bought them for you."

Geralt felt a sudden pang of shame for returning them so unceremoniously. "You didn't have to do that," he murmured.

"I wanted to. Like I told you before," Regis assured, giving Geralt's hand another squeeze. "They're yours, should you want them back. Though I did also lie about not knowing what stone it was, as you suspected."

"Gonna tell me now then?"

"Opals," Regis murmured, looking away best he could with Geralt still cupping his face. "They're supposed to symbolise love and passion."

An embarrassing little sound escaped Geralt's mouth.

"As I said, I thought I'd been quite blunt," Regis said, still looking away.

Geralt cleared his throat. "I obviously can't take a hint, no matter how blunt you think it is."

"Hm, yes, I'm beginning to understand that." Finally, Regis met his gaze. "So since that is the case, I'll ask you right out: Would you please kiss me now?"

Geralt was more than happy to.

 

***

 

The third morning they woke up together was easily the best so far.

It had a familiar feeling to it, as Geralt slowly opened his eyes; his head was resting on Regis' chest, and there were fingers carding through his hair.

"You've done this before," Geralt mumbled, still not completely awake. He leaned into the touch and let his eyes fall closed again.

"I didn't think you remembered," Regis said. His hand slowed a bit, but he didn't stop.

"Didn't until now," Geralt admitted. "It's nice though." 

Regis hummed underneath him, warm and content. "I like your hair. It's very pretty."

Geralt chuckled, awake enough now to move his fingers in lazy patterns across Regis' skin. "You don't have to say that."

This time, Regis' hand did stop. "But I mean it. There are so many wonderful things about you, Geralt."

Geralt wasn't certain he deserved such praise from Regis, but he couldn't bring himself to argue. There was just something so  _ earnest  _ in his voice and Geralt wondered how he could have missed it before. He really had been an idiot.

He rolled onto his stomach, holding himself up with one hand and brushing against Regis' cheek with the other. "Even how I'm too dumb to understand when someone likes me?"

"I said many things, not all," Regis pointed out with a teasing smile. It was wide enough to show off his sharp teeth, and Geralt couldn't resist kissing the corner of his mouth. When he did, Regis turned his head to kiss him back and the hand in Geralt's hair pulled him closer.

"And," Regis breathed as they parted, "to say I like you is quite the understatement."

 

***

 

_ September _

 

"Yes, I'll manage on my own," Ciri assured for the third time, all but pushing Geralt in the direction of the door. It wasn't very far, but the tiny apartment was cluttered with enough boxes to make navigating difficult.

"I know that," he said. "Just thought you might want some help to make it go quicker."

"It's just a desk, dad, and it has instructions."

"But—"

"Regis, could you  _ please _ talk some sense into him?"

Regis, who was standing in a spot that was relatively empty of boxes, shrugged and turned to Geralt. "You won't be here all the time. Isn't it better for her to learn how to fix things herself?"

Geralt glared at them both and sighed. "Knew I'd regret letting you two team up on me."

"Oh please," Ciri said, wrapping her arms around him. "Now go home before you hit rush hour."

He rolled his eyes, but hugged her back tightly. "Yeah, yeah. Love you too, kid."

Ciri reached for Regis next. "Take care of him, will you?" she said as she hugged him.

"I will," Regis promised. He had become more and more accustomed to hugs from Ciri, but he was still careful when he returned the gesture. Geralt knew she would wear him down one day, though.

It was strange to leave Ciri all alone in the new apartment, and stranger still to drive back to Vizima without her. But it wasn't strange in the slightest to go back home with Regis.

"Think she'll be alright?" Geralt asked as he stopped at a red light, reaching for Regis' hand.

"Of course," Regis assured, giving Geralt's hand a squeeze. "And so will you."

Geralt sighed and turned to look at Regis, feeling something warm and happy fill his chest as he did so. "Yeah," he said, a smile finding its way to his lips. "Yeah, guess I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story and an extra thanks to everyone who left a kudos or a comment! I hope you liked it! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment or some kudos if you liked it, and the next chapter will hopefully be up soon! <3


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